Crown of Flames
by geekprincess26
Summary: Cor loves his new life in Archenland, but it's much harder for his sister to leave the past behind her…especially when she discovers a terrifying secret, and the only man who can help her is the one she fears the most. Peter/OFC
1. Prologue

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am thrilled to be posting my first story on this site! As a young and fairly inexperienced fiction writer, I am constantly seeking to improve at my craft. Therefore, I welcome all **_**constructive**_** criticism, whether in review or PM form. Also, please note that this story centers around **_**The Horse and His Boy**_**; if you've read the book, you'll probably follow the earlier events of this story a bit better than if you haven't read it. Finally, one more thing: I know the prologue is a bit lengthy, but bear with me – it's necessary for the setup of the story as a whole, and the chapters will be shorter.**

**DISCLAIMER: If I owned the tiniest nano-fraction of intellectual property contained in **_**The Chronicles of Narnia**_** – indeed, in any of the works of the brilliant genius C.S. Lewis – I wouldn't be a temp, now, would I?**

**Prologue**

The gust was gentle, but it nevertheless made the tiny girl shudder and tug even harder on Sir Terak's arm. "Sir Terak?" she whispered frantically, as she had numerous times throughout the previous hour. "Can you wake up, please? Cor and I need the blanket. Please?"

But Sir Terak, who lay curled up stiffly – armor and all but for his helmet, which lay caught in the iron grip of his right elbow – in a corner of the raft, failed to respond, as he had every other time the child had tried to get his attention. The blanket in question, a rough yet sturdy creation that reeked of horses, was wound tightly around his body, pinioned to the raft in various places by his head, hands, and feet.

The little girl shivered again, half out of cold and half out of fear for her baby brother, who had curled up at the other end of the raft and fallen asleep some hours before. Little Cor didn't look sick or feel as warm to the touch as Sir Terak swore _she_ had been when they'd first boarded the raft, but neither had Sir Terak three days ago, and he'd gotten so sick since then that he'd refused his share of their shrinking store of food and taken only a tiny bit of water, even as the girl herself recovered rapidly. And now he couldn't wake up! She was terrified that baby Cor would fall victim to the illness out on the strange ocean with no physician to help him, for her mother had told her a baby could catch a cold as easily as a fever. And with the chill wind periodically whipping around her face, making her shiver from head to toe, she knew she had to provide Cor with some warmth, and soon. He could even share the blanket with Sir Terak, since he was so small. If she could squeeze between them, so much the better, although Sir Terak had warned her just yesterday to avoid coming into contact with too much heat, as she was still recovering from the fever that had seized her six days ago after the events that had happened aboard Lord Bar's ship…

_The _glomp_-ing of several pairs of boots just outside the door, paired with rise and fall of about half as many sharp, nervous voices, woke the child from a fitful sleep just as the black night outside the tiny port windows began to lighten into the darkest gray. As she had each morning for the past several days, she pulled herself up very slowly, until her eyes could just barely see over the top edge of the empty sailor's trunk that served as her bed. At once she shifted her gaze over the edge of the adjoining trunk to check on her baby brother. He was still sleeping soundly, one tiny hand slowly clenching and unclenching in response to whatever dream played itself out behind his closed eyes. _

_His sister breathed a sigh of relief, which was interrupted almost immediately by the _bang_ of the cabin door crashing open. Immediately the child cowered in the corner of her cramped refuge, hoping that whatever discussion Lord Bar was having with the three men accompanying him would keep his attention away from her, so that he didn't get angry and slap her face as he had yesterday, when she'd tried to climb out of her trunk to comfort the sobbing Cor._

_Her wish was partially granted, for the men's hurried, tense conversation had nothing to do with slapping her. However, as her first wave of fear subsided and she allowed herself to listen to what they were actually saying, her heart tried at once to both sink to her stomach and leap to her throat._

"_You are sure of this, Captain?" Lord Bar's voice carried the tones of a near-sleepless night combined with an intense, harried urgency._

"_Without a doubt, my Lord," replied a gravelly and almost equally weary voice. The child slowly rose once again to a sitting position and peeked up over the ledge of the trunk just in time to match it to a tall pair of black boots, the neat blue-and-white uniform of an Archenland sailor, and a wrinkled, salt-and-pepper-bearded face that might have cracked into a jolly smile had the situation not been so grim. "Should the wind continue to blow at its present speed, they will overtake us well before noon."_

_Lord Bar's lanky, scarecrow-like form bent over just long enough to bang both fists down on his bedside table in clearly evident frustration. "Damnation! If the blasted wind hadn't switched…" He shook his head, cutting off whatever else he may have planned to say. "Nevertheless, do what you can. Lenion – " here his head swiveled to establish eye contact with the slight young military officer across the table from him, whose face the girl couldn't see – "see to the things we discussed previously."  
_

_The officer and captain both bowed silently to Lord Bar. Sensing they were about to leave, the child quickly ducked back down into the trunk, feigning sleep in case they should happen to glance at her. Only when the sound of their boots leaving the room, followed by the snick of the door closing quietly behind them, did she venture to peer beyond the trunk's ledge again._

_This time she could more clearly see the fourth man in the party, who was now having an intense whispered discussion with Lord Bar. In truth, there wasn't much of him to see; an immense white-and-purple cloth was wound around his head, and a complicated array of purple, black, and white gold-trimmed robes studded with gold beads swathed his entire body. However, the child could plainly see that the skin on his face and hands was several shades darker than that of Lord Bar, or herself, or any other Archenlander she'd ever met. In fact, he reminded her of the strange men she'd seen in her father's house one day. Her mother had said they were from some huge country to the south, but she couldn't remember the name…especially not when she thought of her parents. Why hadn't they come to find her yet? She needed them, and, more important, Cor needed them. Without warning, a tear escaped from the corner of her eye and trickled down her cheek, and then another, and another…_

_The little girl was so caught up in her tears that she didn't realize Lord Bar had heard her crying until she suddenly felt his rough hands dragging her out of her trunk. She let out a startled squeal, causing Lord Bar to clap his sweaty, ink-stained hand over her mouth. She wanted to struggle, but the last few times she'd done that, she'd been alternately slapped and told her brother would be taken away if she didn't stop. So she let Lord Bar lower her without incident to the table._

_Immediately, the dark-skinned man crouched to stare straight into her frightened eyes. His, she noticed, were so dark she couldn't distinguish the little black spots in the middle from the areas around them. This, along with his uncannily calculating squint, made her scoot back on the table as far as she could._

_The man's thin lips twisted into a rather nasty-looking smirk. "A rare beauty, this one. You are sure you wish to…affect her so?"_

_Lord Bar glared at him. "And risk her safe return and the ruination of all my efforts? I think not. Even if things fail to go according to plan today, _especially _if they do not, and she does see her parents again, I want them to see the day when they wish they never had." He paused for a second, then bent his head closer to the other man's. "Are you sure your efforts will succeed?"_

_The other man lifted his eyebrows ever so slightly. "I don't believe you would understand the full extent of the labors I have put forth to obtain the necessary materials, my Lord." He uttered the last phrase with a tiny tinge of sarcasm. "If you did, you would not be asking me that question." After an awkward pause, his voice took on a slightly more professional tone, and he spared a glance toward the now-terrified child, who was hunched up against the wall as far from the two men as she could get, and another at her still-sleeping baby brother. "You have prepared them both as I asked?"_

_Lord Bar waved his right hand impatiently. "No food or liquids since sunset, plenty of sleep – everything is accounted for." His own eyes hastily shifted to baby Cor and back to the shuddering child on the table. "Let us begin, then, if you have no further questions for me. I have a pursuit in progress and a battle to prepare for."_

_The other man reached into his robes and slowly pulled out a black bottle that looked as though it was made of lead. "Good. You will have to hold them both down, I'm afraid. They won't exactly like it."_

_The Archenlander graced him with a slight eyeroll. "I didn't exactly think they would." He promptly seized the terrified little girl and held her in a forced sitting position on the edge of the table, looking straight into her eyes. "Now, you will sit still no matter what happens. If you do not, I will take your brother away and you will never see him again. Do you understand me?"_

_The child, now shaking with fright, nodded mutely._

"_Good." Lord Bar clamped his hands more firmly around the child's legs and gave his companion a brief nod._

_The man's demeanor immediately changed. He drew himself up to his full height, and his eyes took on the focused look of one performing an important task which he has done before but desperately wishes to succeed. He began chanting in a harsh language the little girl had never heard before, which contrasted strangely with the lilting cadences in which he spoke it. At length he slowly pulled the stopper out of the leaden bottle, then drew a little iron rod out of it. He dipped the rod back into the bottle, and when he withdrew it again, the child gasped in terror, for dancing along its length were several tiny orange sparks, each strangely blackened at the heart._

_The man's chanting increased in pitch and intensity as he lifted the rod high above his head. Then, before the child could react, he swung it down whistling through the air and stabbed the end straight into the back of the little girl's right forearm._

_For one horrible moment, the girl's eyes bulged in horror, her pain so intense she couldn't even scream. When she did find her voice, her piercing shriek would have awakened everyone on that half of the ship, had they not already been up and preparing for the coming battle. Before she could jerk her arm away, the sorcerer roughly grabbed it and held it in place while he continued to stab it with his other hand, while Lord Bar clapped his own hand over her mouth._

_The pain was now so intensely excruciating, so many of her outlets blocked, that the child could no longer see her surroundings clearly, nor could she hear anything beyond the ringing her ears produced in the wake of the sheer shock that had begun to take over her body. Finally, it overtook her completely and dulled her senses further, and the entire cabin around her faded…_

The child rubbed the still-tender scar on her arm and shuddered at the memory of what had happened just under a week ago. She didn't recall much of what happened after that, except that she woke to feel a bandage around her arm and hear Cor crying, then slept again and woke a second time to find herself on the raft with her brother and Sir Terak. She'd had a terrible fever at that point, but had still been lucid enough to notice Cor's right arm sporting a bandage similar to her own. She'd screamed then, and when Sir Terak had tried to calm her down, she'd at first cried and struggled to keep him from touching her. She'd passed out again not long after that, and while her fever was running its course, she'd gradually learned that Sir Terak meant her no harm – indeed, he'd been the one who had fed her and put the cool, ocean-soaked rags on her skin to make her feel better. Eventually, the fever had broken, but then Sir Terak had become sick, and now he was so sick he couldn't move. Worse still, the child, having learned where the food was kept, knew she had precious little of it left to feed her brother with. And they were still drifting out in the middle of the ocean, with no land in sight and nobody to help them. Despite her best efforts to be brave for her brother's sake, the child felt a tear rolling down her cheek, then another. Unlike before, when Lord Bar had put an immediate stop to her crying on the boat, there was now nobody to silence her tears, and she began to sob.

She abruptly stopped crying, however, when she perceived an almost unearthly noise coming from behind her and beyond the raft. It whispered across the water, sounding all at once like a deep, humming breath and a soothing, gentle song. Slowly, she turned around, and barely caught herself from falling off the raft in shock.

An enormous golden Lion paced steadily across the water toward the raft. It shouldn't be doing that – the girl's mother had shown her pictures of lions back at home and told her they were land animals, and couldn't swim, let alone walk on top of a body of water – but that didn't seem to stop this Lion. The child froze in horror, her eyes widening in anticipation of being chased down and who knew what else, until she noticed the Lion, its head lowered, opening its mouth and blowing. The raft gently scuttled farther away from the animal, and the child watched in fascination as the Lion repeated the process several times.

That was when it raised its head and looked straight into her eyes.

The child once again backed away in fear, sure that the animal meant to eat her now, but instead it simply stood still and stared at her. Then it smiled – not the predatory grin of a hunter who has finally cornered his prey, but a gentle smile meant to soothe and encourage the terrified girl.

Then, smile and all, the Lion vanished.

The little girl stared at the now-empty air around her in bewilderment until a thin wail pierced the air. _Cor! _How could she have forgotten him so easily? She rushed to his side and felt his forehead for any sign of a fever. There was none, but the baby was shivering slightly. Having despaired of wresting the blanket away from Sir Terak, she slowly bent down, picked him up as best she could, set him down next to the immobile knight, and pulled what stray blanket edges she could over the boy's tiny body. Whispering a litany of, "Hush, Cor, sister's here, it's all right, hush, hush," she lowered herself down next to her brother. She put her arms around him and rubbed his tiny back to soothe him until they both drifted off into a soothing, wave-rocked sleep.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

**Southern Calormen, fourteen years later**

"Shen!"

The sound of her name, uttered in her brother's eager, awkwardly-maturing voice, sharply ended the girl's daydream. She slowly raised her head and shoulders from their hunched crouch over the dish-bucket, brushing a rolled-up sleeve over her forehead to remove some of the sweat that had blossomed there in the wake of the hot spring afternoon. Replacing it with plenty of dirt, no doubt. _Oh, well_, she shrugged with her mind – her shoulders being simply too worn out to follow suit. She would wash up at the creek later. For now, she needed to finish scrubbing the family's few dishes with her usual mixture of water, fine creek sand, and a few soap-flakes – a task she'd thought to have finished before her father and brother returned from selling fish in the nearby village. She turned her face upward and squinted, gauging the position of the sun. Sure enough, they'd come back earlier than usual – which meant her father had either sold his fish quickly, or sold none at all.

Fortunately, her suspense ended a few seconds later, when her brother came tearing around the side of the cottage to the shaded spot in back where she and her bucket were keeping each other company. Shasta was breathless and, if possible, sweatier and dirtier than herself, but neither his voice nor his gait contained the note of warning that signified an extremely foul mood on the part of their father. _So we're to be spared another beating for tonight. Good._

The boy opened his mouth to speak, but Shen cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Don't even think about it, Shasta, you'll faint. Go have a dunk first."

Her brother shot her an exaggerated eyeroll, then rushed off a hundred yards or so to the stream that provided their fresh water. However, he returned barely two washed dishes later.

Shen, her brows raised, opened her mouth to order him back, but this time he cut her off. "No, Shen, I have to help you finish those first." _Huh? _ Her eyebrows must have asked the question along with her mind, for the boy waved his hand again. "Seriously. Neresh is sending along some guests. Some important guests. Father had to save his best fish for dinner."

Shen's mouth slowly formed a large, understanding _Oh_. So that explained their rush back to the cottage; Arsheesh, the siblings' fisherman father, would want the cottage looking spotless for whatever travelers had refused to pay the village innkeeper's overpriced rates and decided to stay the night at their cottage instead – particularly if said travelers were actual men of rank, as her brother had suggested. It also meant, however, that Arsheesh was less than thrilled about losing the money he could have earned by selling the cream of his catch. _Good thing I cleaned the cottage today, after all,_ she mused, and almost absentmindedly ducked just inside the back door of the cottage to grab the dish-towel off its peg.

"I talked to Hashim, too. He said we should leave – again," Shasta said as soon as his sister handed him the towel. He'd already lifted the wash-bucket off the stool it had been standing on so that he could set the dried dishes on it – and also so that he and Shen could sit side-by-side and rest their weary feet as they worked. If Arsheesh caught them sitting, she knew they'd be in for a scolding at best or a beating at worst, but if Shasta was right, their father would be too distracted with his fish for the next half-hour at least to check on them.

Shen merely lifted her eyebrows at her brother's reference to the innkeeper's brother – a quiet, kindly man and probably the only one in the village who knew his letters and numbers – and remarked, "_Again_, huh?"

"Oh, come on, Shen, if Father's guests are that important, he won't even think about us once we've brought in the wine – and anyhow, it's the perfect time of year to leave if we want to, _technically_ – " He curled the first two fingers around the last word and pitched his voice higher in an uncanny imitation of his sister's.

They'd had this conversation so many times, Shen knew that line by heart. "I don't care what time of year it is, Shasta. How many times have I _told_ you we'd be caught within a day, and the gods alone know what would be done to us then, especially if these guests are _technically_ – " here she drew out the word as long as she could and waved both hands in an even more exaggerated display – "as important as you say they are!"

She fully expected her brother to answer her with his usual good-humored sarcasm, but instead he grabbed a dish and slowly wound the towel around it before speaking with his head still turned away from her. "Come on, Shen. Neresh said _them_, not _he_. If they see you and…and…" His hand flapped as he turned to look straight into her eyes for a fleeting moment. "I don't want…" He shook his head again, his voice trailing off in a rare glimpse of awkward sincerity.

Shen's mouth twisted, along with her stomach – half out of appreciation for her brother's expression of concern, half out of genuine fear. She didn't know if she could handle another night like the horrible three that had marred the past two years. Her mind and body both shuddered badly at the thought of the alcohol-seared breath, the combined stink of horse and sweat, the groping hands, the terrible iron strength that held her helpless to stop them from taking what they would…

As she had so many times before, Shen abruptly shook her head. There would always be risks associated with staying in Arsheesh's house, especially as long as she remained unmarried. His proximity to a village situated along a major coastal road, combined with the innkeeper's greed, had made their cottage prone to the occasional visit from a weary traveler, and with every such traveler came the risk of pain such as she had already suffered three times before. Or _nearly_ suffered; that much depended on one's point of view. In any case, however, as she'd reminded her brother so many times, the risks of attempting to escape into the unknown North far outweighed the risks of staying where they were.

Not knowing what else to do, she reached forward until her fingertips barely brushed her brother's still-hunched shoulder – he did, after all, hate it when she tried to comfort him or hug him – and reverted to the same objections she'd used since the first time they'd discussed the notion, right after Shasta had finally gotten up the courage to ask their father what sort of lands and peoples lay to the north and promptly been rewarded with a stinging slap to the jaw. "I know, Shasta, but…it's even more dangerous than usual with important guests. They're sure to have fine horses, and even surer to go after us if we take them. And Arsheesh is no less likely to set out after us with help if we walk. And we'd be no less likely to get completely lost, and end up back here again." Her tone clearly indicated the unspoken _And then…_after her last remark. Neither of them felt the need to voice the certainty that Arsheesh's worst beatings to date would be mild in comparison with the consequences of failing to escape, especially if he involved certain of the townspeople. Especially for Shen.

Before Shasta could reply, his sister negated his comments with the slightest shake of her head. "Besides, maybe these guests are quite old. Maybe they won't be any trouble."

Shasta, refusing even to make his customary reply to this equally customary platitude, merely grabbed the bucket and emptied it onto the half-sand, half-grass landscape that surrounded the cottage. Wordlessly, he took it to the creek to rinse it, and he and his sister loaded the dishes into it. Shen took the towel back to the cottage and retrieved the wash-rags, and they both headed to the creek to make themselves sufficiently presentable for their unknown guests.

Once back in the cottage, Shen quickly changed into her second dress, a well-patched affair that was only slightly less worn than the one she'd just shed, and re-twisted her tangled hair into the same practical knot she'd always used.

She was just finishing when she heard her father's annoyed voice drifting in from the main room of the cottage, articulating her full name with a special note of urgency. "Shenari! Shasta! Come at once!"

Shen immediately darted to the doorway of the room she shared with her brother; by an unspoken and long-standing arrangement, when their father summoned them jointly, they first met in their room before obeying him. It didn't necessarily decrease the number of beatings they received, but it did halve the number of blows for each of them.

This time, however, when the siblings met up and joined their father at the front of the cottage, they quickly discovered that a beating was not at all what Arsheesh had in mind.

Before them, sitting proudly erect on two magnificently dappled horses, sat the two most magnificently decorated men Shen had ever seen. Both wore brightly-colored robes over shining gold- and silver-colored mail coats, and each of them rested one hand on the hilt of a sharply curved scimitar with a leather sheath decorated by intricately worked gold designs. Each man also bore a studded round shield, and the one to Shen's left had an amazingly long, amazingly sharply-tipped carved wooden pole balanced in the crook of his arm – which, she noticed upon a second look, was adorned with a thick, jewel-studded gold band identical to the one on the arm of the man next to him.

Shen had to force herself sharply away from what was threatening to become an altogether rude stare at the men's magnificent attire, so she forced her gaze upward, daring a peek at their faces. Once again, her face threatened to freeze in position, because their beards and hair – such as could be seen underneath their tightly-wound, spike-topped turbans – shone the same brilliant shade of scarlet. Granted, Shasta's hair often took on reddish streaks, but it could never approach the pure shade that made each man look like a bizarrely half-wilted cherry tree.

Shen tore her gaze away from the strangers' faces just in time to notice Arsheesh collapse in a full bow on the ground. Then the realization, delayed by her openmouthed awe, struck her, goaded on by her memory of her father's description of men he'd seen long ago who dressed and rode like these two – _Tarkaans_! She'd never imagined actually meeting two of the renowned lords, whose families owned vastly sprawling estates throughout the empire and who could claim blood relationships with the Tisroc himself – _may he live forever, _her obedient mind quickly added. _Talk about important guests!_ She surreptitiously nudged the still-staring Shasta's foot with her own, and the two quickly followed their father's example.

"Rise," intoned an oddly nasal voice several feet above her head, and the three family members arose to find themselves face-to-face with the dismounted lords, who were simultaneously handing their horses' reins to the still-stunned Arsheesh's hands with the utmost condescension. He in turn shuffled them off to Shasta, whose awe luckily did not prevent him from following his training and immediately heading the animals off to the tiny stable a few dozen yards from the cottage. _Good thing he just cleaned it out and put in new hay yesterday_, Shen reflected wryly. Arsheesh would have been most displeased to find the stable dirty – not to mention their two guests, whom he was now reassuring in the flattering wheedle he typically used on his betters in the village, that his boy knew everything there was to know about any kind of horse in the empire. Not that his assertions were remotely true, but Shasta did possess a seemingly mutual special affection for all of the village animals, and he would take the best care he could of the two horses. Which, after all, was better than could be said for a certain greedy village innkeeper.

Understanding her immediate duty to serve the fish, bread, and wine inside to their guests, Shen turned to make a quick curtsey – the expected obeisance women of lesser stature performed after initially greeting a person of significant rank in the supplicant's bow she'd just risen from – and accidentally caught the eye of the man she deemed to be the younger of the two. Perhaps the size and shape of his eyes exaggerated the look he cast her – they were, after all, smaller and more slit-like than those of the older man, whom he otherwise resembled sufficiently to be his brother – but it was unmistakably there in any case. Though she retained her proper composure outwardly, Shen inwardly allowed herself a few shudders as she absorbed the shrewd, calculating gaze, which was tinged with an all-too-familiar tinge of speculation. It had been frightening enough to see on the faces of men of less rank, but coming from such a distinguished person it was downright terrifying. The higher a man's rank, she knew, the more accustomed he was to taking whatever he wished. And the more severe the consequences of resisting or impeding him would be.

Shen shivered again. _"Maybe they won't be any trouble," indeed._


	3. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE, PART 2: Shen's full name is pronounced Shen-AHR-ee (not Shen-AIR-ee).**

**Love it? Hate it? Needs work? Pop me a PM or review and let me know! Thanks so much!**

**Chapter 2**

Shasta stabled the Tarkaans' horses in record time and arrived in the cottage's main room before Shen had finished portioning out their guests' dinner. She shot him a brief, grateful look before returning to her task with as cheerfully stony a face as she could muster to mask her mounting discomfort. Since entering the cottage, the younger Tarkaan had stolen several glances in her direction – and they were as far from friendly as glances can get. Even now, as she turned away from the table to fetch more wine, she could sense his perusal of her backside. _Shen, you're letting your fear rule your eyes again,_ she chided herself. _You can hear Arsheesh talking to him; he can't have been staring at you for so long as you think._

_Keep on believing that, _her intuition replied. _But I know a leer when I see one._

False estimation or no, however, Shen knew she wouldn't be able to stop quavering inside until the men left the following morning. Or, that is, until the younger Tarkaan (or perhaps his brother) acted on his obvious impulses, whichever came first – and Shen could guess which would come first. _Please, please, please, _she silently begged the great god Tash and his daughter Zardeenah – more the latter than the former, she supposed, since Zardeenah was the protectress (with the proper sacrifices) of young maidens (rather, was _supposed _to be the protectress – much good she'd done Shen so far!)while Tash was known to feed on them. _Please let them drink to passing out. Or be sillier drunks than I believe they are. Or become too ill to do what they want. Anything to keep it from happening again._

Shasta's gentle nudge at her elbow pushed her thoughts to a temporary halt. Glancing at him gratefully once again, she yanked the wine-pitcher from the shelf where she'd been balancing it while filling it, and, donning her mask once again, filled the three large clay cups perched atop the dinner table. She carried out the task as efficiently as possible, anxious to finish so that she could grab her customary piece of bread – all she and Shasta ever got when their father was entertaining guests – and escape to the stable as hastily as possible.

Unfortunately, Shen had been forced to follow customary Calormene courtesy and fill the younger Tarkaan's vessel immediately after his brother's and before Arsheesh's. This enabled the man to take a prolonged drink and order her to refill his cup before she could make good her escape. _Blast, _she thought, and echoed it by pouring the liquid so quickly that she nearly caused the cup to overflow. _Good one, Shen. You almost made him force you to clean the stain off. That would do wonders for your plan to remain inconspicuous._

Shen's hand shook ever so slightly as she abruptly cut off the flow of liquid and picked her way around the table to repeat the process with the older Tarkaan's cup. By then, of course, Arsheesh, always eager to consume the liquid portion of his makeshift banquets, needed _his _vessel refilled. Acutely aware that both her hands were now shaking, Shen slowly managed to deepen her breathing as the replenished the pitcher once again.

The younger Tarkaan had signaled for a second refill by now, and Shen mechanically moved to obey him. As she poured the liquid out – _it's almost the same color as his beard, really,_ reflected a strangely detached portion of her mind – she felt the unmistakable swipe of his hand, arcing under the table and barely grazing her lower thigh.

Shen's resulting flinch was surprisingly tiny – at least outwardly. _Good. Don't give him the satisfaction. _Inwardly, however, she could feel the familiar panic building to a low-level fever pitch. _This can't happen again. Not tonight. I can't let it happen. I _won't _let it happen. _ She curtseyed quickly, very nearly threw the pitcher back onto the table, and swept out of the cottage, missing the glinting glances of amusement that passed between the two Tarkaans.

Shasta's head jerked up abruptly at the sound of Shen slamming the stable door. "Hey! Way to make me drop my bread!"

Shen tossed her own hunk of bread into her brother's lap and collapsed most ungracefully into the corner farthest from his, startling even the usually placid donkey. She wrapped her arms around her knees and settled her head atop them, turning her face toward the wall so her brother wouldn't see it contorting in a valiant effort to calm her shaking and prevent her tears.

The second of her two strategies succeeded admirably, largely due to the first being foiled when Shasta, approaching from behind her, dropped her piece of bread back into her lap, causing her to jump nearly a foot.

"Sorry," Shasta muttered, then, even more quietly, "You can eat it, you know. I didn't bite into it or anything."

Shen took a deep breath and shook her head. "No, thanks," she answered, looking straight into her brother's semi-contrite face. "You eat it. I'm not hungry."

Her brother emitted an exasperated sigh. "Come on, Shen, I won't _starve _or anything. I'll get plenty of fish tomorrow. After all – " here he broke into an exaggerated but uncannily accurate impression of Arsheesh's exaggerated speech to the Tarkaans just minutes before in the cottage – "as my Lords can see, Tash has been most generous to your humble servant. He supplies us this night with the most excellent fish in the province – " Here he bowed exaggeratedly, a comical imitation of the Arsheesh's prolonged, obsequious collapse in front of the Tarkaans upon their arrival.

Shen remained unable to laugh, but her mouth did stop quivering uncontrollably. "No, really, Shasta, it's all right. You can eat it. I'm really not hungry."

The boy's mouth twisted uncertainly, but he took the proffered bread from his sister's hand. "All right," he answered. "I'll do the checking, though."

"Thanks." Shen nodded in appreciation of her brother's role in another of their unspoken rituals. Up until two years previously, when their father entertained guests, one of them would sneak up to the edge of the cottage and peer in through the back window an hour or two after serving dinner, in order to see if their father and his guest were still conversing, or passed out drunk, or headed to bed – Arsheesh in the main room, the guest in Shasta and Shen's tiny cubicle. In either of the two latter situations, the sibling doing the spying would sneak into the cottage and forage for leftovers. However, that role had been relegated permanently to Shasta, at his own insistence, for the past two years, ever since the first incident had happened. It was best for them both to keep Shen out of the guests' sight as much as possible, although it wasn't a foolproof plan, seeing as it hadn't stopped the other two incidents from occurring. Nor a fourth tonight, if her luck failed to hold…

By the time Shen had shaken herself out of her morbid reverie, she noticed two things: first, the light streaming in through the stable's sole window had become less light; and second, Shasta had left the stable. Shen cautiously poked her head out the door, and, sure enough, detected her brother huddled beneath to the cottage's back window, his eyes wide with shock and entirely devoid of their usual glinting humor.

Her curiosity piqued, Shen scrambled over to sit next to her brother. That he didn't even blink at her presence was a measure of how serious the conversation going on indoors must be. _The conversation. Right. _Shen shut her eyes and turned her head so that her right ear straddled one of the largest cracks in the cottage's mossy wooden wall.

"…master," – Shen recognized her father's wheedling tones at once. "What price could induce your servant, poor though he is, to sell into slavery his only son and his own flesh? Neither is your servant so willing to part with his only daughter, for her rare beauty delights my aging eyes, and is a treasure nearly beyond price. Has not one of the poets said, 'Natural affection is stronger than soup and offspring more precious than carbuncles?'

Shen nearly choked on thin air. _What? Sell Shasta? I always knew he wanted as high a price for me – whether as wife or concubine – but _Shasta_? And here I was thinking only of my own safety…Shen, you selfish little…_

But her thoughts were cut off by the increase in volume of the voice of one of their guests – the elder of the two, she guessed; his voice carried a more nasal pitch than his brother's.

"Do not load your aged mouth with falsehoods," he fairly hissed at Arsheesh. "This boy and girl are manifestly no children of yours, for your cheek is as dark as mine, but the boy and his sister are fair and white like the accursed but beautiful barbarians who inhabit the remote North."

Shen's eyes went wider, if possible, than her brother's, as her mind instantly raced back several years, to her conversation at the inn with Hashim and his niece Ruhandi.

"_No, Shen, it doesn't mean that," Ruhandi assured the child, whose eyes had grown round as Arsheesh's wagon wheels. "When Hashim said I have my father's eyes, he didn't mean my father's eyes were cut out of his own head. He simply meant that my eyes look like my father's. All children look something like one or other of their parents, after all."_

_The girl's brow furrowed for a few moments as she considered her friend's words. "You mean, unless the children are cursed by the gods?" she finally inquired._

"_What do you mean?" Now Ruhandi's brow was wrinkled as well._

"_My father says my brother and I are pale-skinned and don't look like him or anyone else because the gods cursed us when we were born," the child explained. She forbore mentioning the slaps and curses that usually accompanied those words, a favorite theme of the fisherman's rants when either of the children had failed to accomplish a task to his exacting standards._

_Ruhandi exchanged a long glance with her uncle before he bent down to set his large, kind eyes on a perfect level with the child's. "Some people may believe that," he said slowly, as if choosing his words very carefully, "but it is not always true. There are many people with skin the color of yours who live in the two far northern countries – the ones I told you about, remember?"_

_At a slight nod from the child, Hashim continued. "Now, do you remember what Ruhandi just told you about children looking like their parents?" The girl nodded again. "It is quite possible you were born to northern parents. You probably do look like them. I have seen nothing to tell me you or your brother has been cursed by any of the gods – although your brother seems to be taking after Ketzin quite well." His eyes twinkled at the mention of the male child-god, Tash's youngest son and the patron god of all mischief._

_Shen smiled in return, but it was only a tiny one, and quickly changed to a confused frown. "But Arsheesh is my father. I don't remember having another one!"_

_Hashim exchanged yet another wordless look with his niece before turning his attention back to the child. "That's because he's taken you in and raised you as his own, Shen. You were a very little girl when you came to live here, and your brother was only a baby. He found you one day outside the cottage, and you've lived with him ever since."_

_The child glanced between her two friends inquiringly, but neither appeared to be joking. Still, she couldn't remember ever having had another father, or any mother at all! But her earliest memory didn't involve Arsheesh, either – just a raft and some water and an enormous Lion. That is, if it was a memory and not a dream. She couldn't tell for sure. _

"_Was there a lion with me?" was all she could manage to ask at the moment._

"_No, child," answered Hashim, raising one curious eyebrow for a moment. "It was only you and your brother."_

"_But where are my other father and mother, then? Why didn't they come with me?" The child's voice had become plaintive, and Ruhandi crouched down and rubbed her shoulder soothingly._

"_We don't know, Shen," she answered gently. "But you are lucky you were found, and now you have food and shelter every day." She forbore to mention Arsheesh by name, but quickly moved on with a smile. "And you have me to talk to, and Hashim to teach you letters!"_

_The child's answering smile was uncertain at best. She sensed from the care with which her friends had chosen their words that she shouldn't mention this story to Arsheesh, just like she'd never told him that Hashim had taught her to read letters and words. She wasn't even sure she believed what they had just told her._

Arsheesh's noisy wheedling severed Shen's train of thought. "Know then, O my formidable guest," he was saying, "that because of my extreme poverty I have never married and have no child. But in that same year in which the Tisroc (may he live forever) began his august and beneficent reign, on a night when the moon was at her full, it pleased the gods to deprive me of my sleep. Therefore I arose from my bed in this hovel and went forth to the beach to refresh myself with looking upon the water and the moon and breathing the cool air. And presently I heard a noise as of oars coming to me across the water and then, as it were, a weak cry. And shortly after, the tide brought to the land a little boat in which there was nothing but a man lean with extreme hunger and thirst who seemed to have died but a few moments before (for he was still warm), and an empty water-skin, and two children, still living. 'Doubtless,' said I, 'these unfortunates have escaped from the wreck of a great ship, but by the admirable designs of the gods, the elder has starved himself to keep the children alive and has perished in sight of land.' Accordingly, remembering how the gods never fail to reward those who befriend the destitute, and being moved by compassion (for your servant is a man of tender heart – "

"Leave out all these idle words in your own praise." This time it was the younger Tarkaan who cut off Arsheesh's ramblings; his voice was slightly deeper than his brother's, with a more softly menacing tinge. "It is enough to know that you took the children – and have had ten times the worth of their daily bread out of them in labor, as anyone can see. And now tell me at once what price you put on the boy for my brother and the girl for me, for we are wearied with your loquacity."

"You yourself have wisely said that their labor has been to me of inestimable value." There was no mistaking the calculating tone that had crept into Arsheesh's wheedle, making it even more obnoxious, if possible. "This must be taken into account in fixing the price. For if I sell them, I must undoubtedly either buy or hire others to do their work. And you have both witnessed with your own eyes the girl's exceptional beauty. Any man in his right senses, may he be lord, Tarkaan, or even Tisroc (may he live forever) would joyfully part with a great deal of his livelihood to possess such a rare and exotic treasure…"

"I'll give you fifteen crescents for the boy." The elder Tarkaan mercifully interrupted Arsheesh – a respite that did not last nearly long enough.

"Fifteen!" Arsheesh sounded but one step removed from foaming at the mouth. "_Fifteen!_ For the prop of my old age and the delight of my eyes! Do not mock my gray beard, Tarkaan though you be. My price is seventy."

The bile that had been brewing in Shen's stomach ever since Arsheesh and Shasta had returned from the village that afternoon finally boiled over. She leaped up and darted around the shed, barely reaching the far side before she began heaving repeatedly. Finally, nerves almost completely spent, she lowered herself onto her knees, propped herself against the side of the stable with one hand, and used the other to stem the noise of the wordless sobs that suddenly wracked her body. Shasta, she knew, had heard worse from her a time or two before, but she didn't wish to spook the Tarkaans' two horses, who were grazing only a few yards away, and cause an uproar that would put a perfect end to this horrible day.

Shen hadn't heard her brother walk around the stable, so the sound of his voice momentarily startled her out of her sobbing. "I wish I knew more about that other Tarkaan," he was saying, but a quick turn of Shen's head confirmed that he wasn't addressing her. He seemed to be speaking to the older Tarkaan's horse. Despite her despair, Shen almost smiled; her brother's endearing habit of speaking to animals when he thought nobody was watching had always cheered her in an oddly warm way.

"I don't like his brother," Shasta continued, his voice now taking on a distinctly plaintive tone. "But he – it would be splendid if he was kind. Maybe I could get my sister to come with me instead. Some of the slaves in a great lord's house have next to nothing to do. They wear lovely clothes and eat meat every day. My sister wouldn't have to work so hard then." Here Shen's mouth twisted into a genuine half-smile. "But then he might be a horrid cruel man, like his brother…" He slowly approached the horse and gave it a pat on its dappled nose. _Good thing it's not an ill-tempered horse,_ Shen thought in spite of herself. _How many times have I told him not to be too familiar with strange animals, because you never know if it's one of the ones that will bite even if you're friendly to them?_

"I wish you could talk, old fellow." Shasta continued.

Shen's half-smile twisted into a very nearly full one. _Oh, Shasta. If anybody would believe a horse could talk, it's you._

Which was why she tripped over her hand and stumbled straight into the stable wall when she saw the horse open its mouth and calmly utter the words, "But I can."


	4. Chapter 3

**AUTHOR'S NOTE, PART 3: Please note that in this chapter, as well as the one preceding it and many of the ones following it, I have incorporated the dialogue from **_**The Horse and His Boy**_**. In some places I have left it intact exactly as C.S. Lewis wrote it, and in others I have adapted it. This dialogue belongs to the master himself, and not to my poor, inferior brain.**

**PRONUNCIATION NOTE: Atish is pronounced Ah-TEESH.**

**Chapter 3**

"Whoa!" Shasta's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, and his hand recoiled from the horse's snout as if it were a burning chunk of coal.

"Ow!" At exactly the same time, Shen, who had been halfway between kneeling and standing when she heard the horse speak, tripped over her hand, smacked into the side of the shed, and sat straight back down, rubbing her newly-bruised left shoulder. The injury, however, did not keep her from immediately whipping her head around to stare at the horse. _I had to have imagined that. I _had_ to! I wanted Shasta's wish to come true, so I must have imagined it._

_But if I imagined it, why does his face look as surprised as mine?_

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Bree," another voice broke in. _Wait a minute. That wasn't Shasta. That sounded female… _Still in half a daze, Shen slowly swung her eyes, which were now wider than Shasta's if possible, to the younger Tarkaan's horse, which had trotted up next to its partner during the stunned silence. _Oh, no. Oh, _double _no. Not that one, too._

"Can't you see you've scared the boy witless?" admonished the mare. "I told you not to just start _talking _out of the blue in front of him. You might have given him a bit more warning!"

"Oh, and how would I have done that?" returned the first horse sarcastically. _Wait a minute. Did I just hear a creature that can't even talk – all right, definitely _shouldn't _be able to talk – express sarcasm? _"Would you rather I started writing in the dirt for him?"

The mare rolled its – _well, _her, _I suppose _– eyes at him, but her forthcoming reply was abruptly halted when Shasta finally found his voice.

"How ever did _you _learn to talk?" he asked, all the incredulity from his burgeoning eyes having found its way into his voice.

"Hush! Not so loud," the first horse answered. "Where I come from, nearly all the animals talk."

_All the animals? _All _the animals? He did _not _just say that. He did not, he did not, he did NOT!_

"Wherever is that?" Shasta was asking the horses.

"Narnia," answered the mare, her tone rising from scolding to nearly lilting.

_Narnia…it can't be! Even Hashim said that he could only verify that it _had _existed as a country in the past, and he didn't know for sure whether it still _does _exist. He thought it and that other northern country…what was it? Right, Archenland…might have been taken over by one of the western nations during the wars 100 years ago…_

"How did you get here?" Shasta was asking the male horse.

"Kidnapped," the latter replied ruefully. "Or stolen, or captured – whichever you like to call it. I was only a foal at the time. My mother warned me not to range the Southern slopes, into Archenland and beyond, but I wouldn't heed her."

"_Or _me," the mare interjected. "How many times did I _tell _you…"

"As many times as you've told me since then that if I hadn't been such an idiot, you wouldn't have followed me and been kidnapped too," the other horse answered, not quite sharply enough to provoke an instant reply from the mare, but just sharply enough to make her roll her eyes. _Like they've never argued about that before, _thought Shen, recognizing a conversation the two horses seemed to have memorized as well as she and her brother had learned their own arguments about leaving Arsheesh's cottage by heart.

"In any case," continued the male horse, "I have paid for my folly. All these years I have been a slave to humans, hiding my true nature and pretending to be dumb and witless like _their _horses."

"Why didn't you tell them who you were?" queried Shasta.

Shen and the mare both rolled their eyes simultaneously – _honestly, Shasta, don't you remember that carnival full of strange beasts that just visited the village last year?_ – and she finally found her voice, rose to her feet, and stepped toward her brother just as the male horse began to speak again.

"Come on, Shasta, you don't – "

"Well, we're not _that _foolish – "

Both horses immediately swiveled around to regard her.

"Our apologies." The mare spoke first. "We didn't mean to disturb anyone in the house."

Shen managed to open and close her mouth without saying anything only once. "Oh, no…I wasn't in the house. I was just over there, by the side of the stable, and I…um…couldn't help overhearing you."

"What happened to your arm, Shen?" asked her brother, noticing her wince as she lifted her left arm to indicate the spot she had just vacated.

Shen waved him off. "Just tripped again, that's all." The sound of her name jolted her back to her sense of common courtesy. _Well, I don't know exactly what talking horses consider courtesy, but I'm not going to let them think we're a couple of rude idiots._ "Pardon me, I don't believe my brother – " here she shot Shasta a meaningful look – "and I have properly introduced ourselves yet. My name is Shen – " after half a moment's hesitation as to what gesture should accompany her introduction, she decided the customary curtsey would suffice – "and this is my brother Shasta." After receiving a second, slightly longer look, Shasta produced an awkward bow. "We live here, as you probably know."

"_As you probably know?" What a nice way of insulting the intelligence of the strangers you just met, Shen._

The mare didn't seem to mind in the least. She nodded her head briefly. "It's our pleasure to meet you. My name is Brennin-nenhin-hayhin-hoohy-hah, and this scalawag is my twin brother – "

"Breehy-hinny-brinny-hoohy-hah," interrupted the male horse, stretching out each syllable with great relish and drawing an exaggerated eyeroll from his sister.

After a moment of considerably awkward silence, Shasta plucked up the courage – _or sheer impertinence,_ Shen thought half-proudly and half-exasperatedly – to say, "Sorry, but could we come up with something shorter to call you each? I'll never be able to pronounce your full names properly. Say, perhaps, Bree and Bren?"

Bree tossed his head impatiently. "Well, if it's the best you can do, I suppose you must."

"Of course you may," his sister amended, shooting her brother a brief, scornful glance. _Funny. I never thought a horse would know as many ways to say "Mind your manners" as I do._

"In any case," Bree continued, steadfastly ignoring his sister, "to answer your previous question about my master, the Tarkaan Anradin, he's bad. Almost as bad as his brother, the Tarkaan Atish. Not that they're too bad to us – we cost them too much to be treated very badly. But you'd better be lying dead tonight than go to be human slaves in his house – or his brother's house – tomorrow."

Shen had decided as much about the Tarkaan Atish already, but her eyes widened of their own volition. _I don't believe I have ever heard anybody – let alone a talking horse – enunciate my own thoughts so clearly right in front of me._ However, it still didn't keep her from catching the meaningful look her brother shot at her, heavy with every argument he'd ever used to plead his case for leaving. And she wanted to smack him for doing it, because she'd never been more prone to giving in than now.

"I think we'd better run away, then." Shasta was now addressing Bree.

"Yes, you had," the horse replied. "But why not run away with us?"

"Are you going to run away too?"

"Yes, but only if you'll come with us," Bren cut in. "It's the best chance for us all. If my brother and I run away without riders, everyone who sees us will think we're stray horses and make after us as quick as they can. Tarkaans have been known to pay handsomely to reclaim their best mounts, after all. You two, on the other hand, might not draw as many questions, but you won't get nearly as far on two legs each – and they don't look like they're built for too much speed. On us, you can outdistance any other horse in this country. By the way, I suppose you know how to ride."

Shasta quickly won the race to speak first. "Oh, yes, of course. We've both ridden the donkey." _And I still fall off of it every third time or so._

"Ridden the _wha-ha-hat_?" exclaimed Bree, his half-neigh dripping with scorn. "In other words, you _can't _ride. That's a drawback. We'll have to teach you as we go along. If you can't ride, can you fall?"

"I suppose anyone can fall," answered Shasta, looking slightly confused. _Right. I bet your sister was the first person you thought of. Thank you for not saying that out loud, though._

Bren spared her the embarrassment, addressing herself to both siblings. "What my brother _means _is, can you fall and get up again without crying and mount again and fall again and yet not be afraid of falling? You'll have to do that if we ever hope to make it to Narnia."

_Then we might as well not leave at all, _Shen almost spit out. _But the alternative…_

"Would you excuse us for a moment, please?" she asked the horses as calmly as possible before glaring pointedly at her brother. "Shasta, why don't we talk for a bit?"

Both horses nodded, but Shen was already sweeping toward the stable. Shasta, panting, followed her in and shut the door behind him.

"Shasta…" Shen began feebly, but couldn't get out anything further.

"Shen, come _on_." For the first time since they'd begun having that argument, his voice contained more pleading than exasperation. "Tarkaans do own the fastest horses. On these two, we'd actually have a chance – better than just a chance, if you think about it – and once we get to Narnia, we'll actually know somebody who can show us around while we're looking for our real parents."

The skeptical reply Shen had been preparing promptly dissolved on her tongue in the hopeful glow of her brother's widened eyes. "You believe what Arsheesh said, then. About finding us by the ocean, I mean." It wasn't a question.

Shasta nodded his head and shrugged his shoulders in concert. "It makes sense." He paused for a moment. "You believed him, too, right?"

Shen absently returned his nod, making a split-second decision not to tell him about her conversation with Hashim and Ruhandi so many years ago. _Maybe I should have told you about it like I wanted to, little brother. But I didn't trust you not to blurt it out to Arsheesh and incur another beating. And even if Hashim and Ruhandi were right, what would I have been able to tell you about our real parents? If we _were_ in a shipwreck, or lost, then they had probably died already. If they were alive, why didn't they come to find us? Like Hashim's favorite poet said, "He who ceases to seek does not care to find" – right? And how could I ever have said that to you? _ "But even in that case…"

Shen could tell Shasta's exasperated sigh was meant to presage an equally exasperating exclamation, so she cut him off quickly. "No, Shasta, listen. Can we really trust these horses? For all we know, they're trying to trap us into a failed escape. And even then, even if we do escape, how do we know they'll be able to find their way to Narnia? And Shasta…" She couldn't stop the thin film of tears from covering her eyes. "Even if we do get there, we might never find our parents. You know that, right? And if we don't, how do we know we won't become slaves again? Or worse?"

Shasta looked as though he was about to launch into an impressive series of arguments to combat her own, but at the last moment he choked it back, shook his head, and regarded her with an intentness he rarely displayed. "Worse than _here_, Shen?" His mouth didn't add, _Especially tonight?_, but his eyes did.

And to those simple questions, Shen could summon no reply.

_Even _I _don't really believe my own argument about trusting the horses. What reason would they have for betraying two people they just met, especially if we're their way out of slavery? Besides, if they have fought in any wars at all with their lords, they must know much more about geography than Shasta and I do. And when – if – we get to Narnia, the fact that we're accompanying two native Narnians should stand us in good enough stead with whoever else lives there to keep us out of slavery – the worst sorts of slavery, at least. Maybe. Oh, I don't know. _She squinted her eyes shut so tightly that the headache that had plagued her since she began serving that night's dinner quickly migrated to her forehead.

_But you _do _know what will happen if the Tarkaans persuade Arsheesh to sell the both of you. Shasta will be condemned to a life worse than this one, if possible. And you…_ Shen shuddered, and with great effort refused to let her thoughts wander any further in that direction. _Do you really want to hang your hopes for your brother – not to mention yourself – on so slender a thread as Arsheesh's drunken, unpredictable greed? Or on the Tarkaans' restraint should he refuse them?_ This time, her shudder was visible, and she clenched her teeth almost as tightly as her eyelids.

"Shen?" The sound of her name, spoken for at least the third or fourth time now if her brother's genuinely worried tone was any indication, finally snapped Shen's chain of troubled thoughts. _For the moment, at least._

She inhaled deeply, sucking in what felt like the equivalent of the North and South Winds both before rubbing her earlobe between her thumb and forefinger – as was her wont in significantly difficult situations – and turning to look her brother directly in the eyes.

"Let's go, then."


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The two siblings emerged from the stable not ten minutes later. Shen carried two sets of bundled stable clothes – as the siblings called the garments they used solely for especially dirty outdoor tasks and therefore kept in the stable – wrapped in twine. She and her brother had split the burden of as much of the horses' gear as they could carry between them.

"Excellent!" exclaimed Bree as soon as he saw them, then, "I don't suppose you – " here he gestured to Shasta – "remember taking all that off us enough to know how to put it on?"

"Putting on _is _a bit different from taking it off, technically, isn't it, though?" _Lovely. Now I'm stumbling over my own tongue trying to avoid being rude._

Fortunately, neither horse appeared to agree with that assessment. The eyeroll that followed Bren's "Of course" was clearly aimed at Bree, not Shen.

"We'll tell you where to put everything, don't worry," the mare assured them.

"We'd best keep our voices down, though." Shen cut off whatever her brother had been about to say. She inclined her head slightly toward the cottage, now lit from within to stave off the dark that had almost completely covered the sky. "They're not asleep, and I don't believe they've passed out yet, either."

"Well, we'll wait till they've fallen asleep to leave, anyway," began Bree.

"No, we need to leave _now_," interjected Shasta firmly, "or at any rate as soon as we've got you two saddled. When there are guests, they sometimes…" He paused, not sure exactly how to continue.

"They sometimes, um, come out to the stable and break things if they're drunk," Shen finished quickly; actually, it was barely a lie at all. _From a certain point of view, anyway._

The two horses briefly exchanged a confused look, but apparently this sort of behavior was not beyond the pale of their own masters during inebriation; this time it was Bren who interrupted her own brother. "Of course. Let's get started, then."

Between a quarter and half an hour later, the horses stood saddled and nearly ready.

"Now," said Bree, who had clearly enjoyed doing the majority of the directions to the two humans during the saddling process, "we've got to have reins for the look of the thing, but you won't be using them. Tie them to our saddle-bows – very slack, so that we can do what we like with our heads. And, remember – you are not to touch them. _We _will be doing all the directing."

"Wait," interjected Shen. _I can't believe I didn't think of this before. Idiot._ "Which direction are we taking, exactly? I mean, I know we're headed north in general, but there's more than one northern country, isn't there? Do you remember the exact route we need to take from when you…left…Narnia before?"

"Not the exact way, no – " Bren cut short her brother's indignant snort – "but we can find our way to Tashbaan easily enough. That's where our masters were headed, anyway – straight to the court of the Tisroc, actually – "

"You do mean to say 'May he live forever,' don't you?" interjected Shen in near-horror, before she could stop herself.

"Why?" Bree immediately shot back, causing Shen's jaw to drop and Shasta's eyes to become nearly as wide as his own. "She and I are free Narnians. And why should we talk slaves' and fools' talk? We don't want him to live forever, and we know that he's not going to live forever whether we want him to or not." Here Shen's mouth first opened even wider, then suddenly quirked at the corner. _It is technically true, after all. Wait a minute. Don't say that out loud._ "And I can see you're both from the free north too. No more of this southern jargon from any of us!"

But Shen had stopped hearing him at the repetition of the word _free_. She didn't even hear her brother's brief reply before finally summoning the energy to open her mouth again. "You said _free_…what do you mean by that, exactly? Do you mean there's no Tisroc, or anybody like him, in Narnia? Or do you mean you wouldn't have a master?"

Bree stared at her as though she'd grown an extra pair of legs. "Of course there's no Tisroc in Narnia! There are Kings and Queens there, right enough, but they don't demand sacrifice, and for the most part they leave everybody to their own business. But by _free_, of course, I mean _really _free: free of masters, and free of saddles and bridles and reins. For horses _or_ humans, or any other creature, for that matter. Everybody in Narnia is free!"

"So we – Shen and I – we wouldn't have masters – or – or anyone like Arsheesh to live with and…uh…serve?" Shasta stumblingly picked up where his still-stunned sister had left off.

Bree actually tossed his head and let out an exasperated _neigh_ at that, until Bren cut in. "No. No masters. You would be free to come and go as you please – to serve at court, or to take up a trade in one of the towns, or whatever else you wish."

"_Anyway – " _Bree's still-slightly-annoyed voice ended the awkward silence that followed, as both Shen and Shasta were clearly too overwhelmed to speak at the moment – "the point is, my sister and I were planning on going to Tashbaan anyway. We've both been there before, and we shall have no problem finding it again."

_Wait just a minute. Even _if _that insane story…nobody giving us orders? What on earth would we do, then? Live like the Tarkaans with fancy houses? But they have slaves, too, and Bree just said everybody in Narnia is free. What does _anyone_ do in that country, then? If the horses have no masters, how do they fight any wars? _Do_ they fight wars at all? And how would Shasta and I get food? Who would provide it for us? What happens there to people like us, who have lost their parents? We don't know any trades to open up our own shops with like the people in the village – oh, right, I suppose being like a Tarkaan isn't the only way to live if you don't want to be a slave, but still… And what's that he said about "any other creature?" Does he just mean all those other talking animals he mentioned earlier, or _(here she shuddered) _genies, or ghouls, or some other kind of creature I've never even heard of? Oh, for heaven's sake, Shen, you are getting_ far_ too far ahead of yourself; how many times did Hashim always say, "He who stops to stare at his destination thereby forgets to run his route"?… Anyway, even _if _this ridiculous story is remotely true, we still have to get through Calormen first._ "But won't we be in great danger of getting caught, or at least looked for, if we go that way, then?"

"Hah!" This time Bree emitted his snort uninterrupted. "As if! Our masters think we're dumb and witless like their other horses. Now if we really were, the moment we got loose we'd go back home to our stable and paddock; back to their palace, which is two days' journey south. That's where they'll look for us. And anyway, they'll probably just think that someone in one of the villages we passed through today who saw us ride through has followed us here and stolen my sister and me."

"In any case," continued Bren more gently, "Tashbaan is right on the edge of the desert. And once you're a fair way across that, you can see the northern mountains. They're in Archenland. Once we get over those, we'll end up in Narnia."

Shasta was now grinning from ear to ear. "Yes! I've been longing to go to the north all my life."

"Shasta,_ hush!" _

"Sorry." Shasta rolled his eyes. "Are we all ready, then?"

"If you're ready to mount us," replied Bree.

This proved much easier said than done. Shasta possessed enough agility to leap high enough to grab onto Bree's saddle and haul himself up on only his second try. However, Shen – who luckily had remembered to put on her stable trousers underneath her skirts, but still suffered from an acute lack of coordination – fell down so many times attempting to mount Bren that in the end she had to step precariously onto the half-rotted hitching post next to the stable and propel herself off of it onto the mare's steady, waiting back. She came up huffing and puffing, but safely aboard, which caused a good deal of smirking and chuckling from Bree and Shasta before Bren shot them both an extremely withering look, and they gradually subsided.

"Narnia and the north, then!" Bree fairly chirped, and off they headed.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Several hours later, Shen and Shasta fairly tumbled off the horses onto the mercifully grass-laden ground in a fair-sized grove a couple hundred yards off the shoreline. They had spent one of those hours trotting south to confuse anybody who might track them, then using the water two creeks beyond the cottage to mask the beginnings of their northward trail. The two humans had spent the rest of the time alternately falling off the horses (a good three-quarters of which was accomplished by Shen) and gripping them with their knees for dear life in their attempts not to fall (Bren wasn't used to having her mane held, and Shen's near-death-level grip caused her so much discomfort that the girl didn't have the heart to continue; Bree flatly refused to let Shasta's hands anywhere near his mane, since he didn't want to arrive back in his native land "with half my mane missing, thank you very much."). As a result, by the time the night's trek ended, Shen and Shasta were both so bruised that they could barely manage to remove the horses' gear before gratefully throwing themselves to the ground.

Shen popped back up almost immediately. "Tash help us!" she exclaimed, her eyes popping almost completely open despite her half-asleep state. "We've forgotten to leave behind the saddlebags!"

Bree, in the middle of a huge yawn, merely shook his head and frowned at her. "So?" he fairly grunted in reply. "All they have in them is a few days' worth of food and a little money. Our masters are far too rich to miss what we've ended up with."

"But – but isn't that stealing?" piped up Shasta.

Bree shook his head, or rather inclined it; he was plainly too tired to do more. "We won't be doing anything of the sort once we're in Narnia," he answered. "Free horses – and free humans – mustn't steal, of course. But right now we're prisoners and captives in enemy country. Those supplies are booty, spoil."

"Besides," said Bren, half-glaring at her brother, "we can't get proper food for you two any other way. Unless you wish to try your luck at sneaking some out of the villages we're going through later – which is stealing just as much as taking the bags with us is. And my brother is right; we'll never make off with anything belonging to someone else, be it only a grain of wheat, once we've left Calormen."

Shen opened her mouth with every intention of arguing, but it seemed to shut of its own accord. _I really don't think I'd enjoy starving, anyway._ Without another word except a mumbled exchange of "Good night" with her traveling companions and a further exchange of "Sleep tight" with Shasta (a part of their bedtime ritual since Shasta learned to talk), she lowered herself to the ground with a few soft grunts and lay still.

Shasta's soft snores began filling the air almost at once, and the horses' own deep, fluttering sighs followed in short order. Exhausted though she was, though, Shen at first found herself unable to drop off.

It wasn't her fresh injuries that were causing her insomnia, she decided; gods only knew she'd suffered far worse pain at Arsheesh's hands and slept through it somehow. Besides, as long as she stayed on her back, she wouldn't put any pressure on her throbbing knees and inner thighs. _They'll be all bruise and no skin tomorrow,_ she reflected ruefully. Even the fresh scratches on her arms, results of one particularly nasty fall into a gorse-bush, and which still stung after she'd splashed ocean water on them, wouldn't cause her too much additional pain, as long as she rested said arms on her extra articles of clothing, which she'd turned inside-out and placed on either side of the body to prevent dirt, and therefore infection, from seeping into the wounds.

Nor was the matter of the saddlebags enough to keep her awake. She hadn't actually meant to steal them, after all, and Bren had been right; there was simply no other way to keep herself and her brother fed during the long journey through Calormen. Although that certainly didn't keep her from worrying that Arsheesh, or the Tarkaans, or all three, would ride up to their resting place at any moment to retrieve the bags…and worse. She shivered and huddled up onto her side, then winced as her knees touched each other and began screaming at her again, mercifully breaking her morbid chain of thought for the moment.

_At this rate, _she thought ruefully, carefully re-situating herself onto her back, _it will be a wonder if we survive the journey with _any _part of our bodies _not_ bruised black-and-blue. But if we ever do get there…what on earth will Shasta and I do? Bree did say something about taking up a trade, but I don't _know _any trades. Well, except for mending nets and scrubbing houses. And Shasta can fish…a little. Maybe I could mend his nets, although we almost certainly don't have a cottage waiting for us when we get to Narnia. Perhaps we can beg lodging wherever Bree and Bren end up. _She sighed, her thoughts taking a direction she'd dreaded since she and her brother had eavesdropped outside the cottage several hours previously. _But Shasta won't be content with that. He'll insist on finding our parents. He won't be able to settle down and help me start some type of life for us until we figure out who they are…well, _were_, more likely._

Shen almost unconsciously emitted another, longer sigh she hadn't known her exhausted body could contain. _Oh, stop telling yourself only half the truth. You know _you _won't be satisfied until you get to the bottom of what happened, either. _

_All right. True enough…more than true enough, if possible._ She blinked back the tears that had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. _If our parents really_ were _northerners, they must be dead. Why wouldn't they have come to find us and bring us back otherwise? I am glad to be rid of Arsheesh, but he was probably right about the shipwreck, after all. _

_Wait. Shipwreck…ocean._ _Huh? _ Shen jerked her head up as far as her aching back would allow, suddenly acutely aware of the ocean waves' soothing _bwoosh_ against the nearby shoreline; having spent her life in Calormen sleeping inside a building located farther from the shore, she wasn't accustomed to being so close to the noise. _Then why do I remember hearing it almost exactly like this before? _

But the moment Shen squinted her eyes shut in frustration, she found them staring, wide-eyed, at the edge of a raft with a motionless knight and a crying baby, in the middle of the ocean with the _bwoosh _of the waves all around her. She looked up in half-dread, half-anticipation, straight into the face of an enormous Lion padding straight across the surface of the water toward her…

Her eyes jerked open of their own accord. She quickly swiveled her head around, but saw only the sleeping forms of her brother and the two horses in the thin light of the crescent moon.

_Have I been dreaming? _She lay back down and frowned. _No…I was thinking clearly before I imagined that. I can remember everything I was thinking of right up until the moment it began. _

_But it must have been a dream. I've had that dream before. I was much, much younger, though…or was I? I thought I had the exact same dream last year. Did I? Was it even really a dream, or _did _I escape a shipwreck when I was little? After all, I first had the dream well before I heard Arsheesh describe how he found us. Could it have been a memory after all? But if it is a real memory, why don't I remember my parents? Did they die in the shipwreck, and I just don't remember them being on the ship with me? Or were they not on the ship to begin with? Were they sending us away for some reason? Why? _She threw her right arm over her eyes in frustration, then yanked it away when the gorse-bush scratches immediately began stinging. _Wait. My arm._ _ It got hurt on the ship…the man in the purple robes stabbed it with black-hearted flames. Or was that a dream, too? But if it wasn't, my parents _can't _have been on the ship; they wouldn't have let the man do that to me if they could have helped it, would they? Unless he was curing me of something, but I don't remember being sick. _

_Ugh. I will get sick for certain if I keep causing my head to spin with all this confusion. "Chaos of the mind creates chaos in the body"…in that, at least, Arsheesh spoke the truth. Or was that Hashim? Hmmm…_

Shen awoke the next morning to the laughter of her brother plus two horses. _Wait. Horses?_ She opened her eyes abruptly and began to sit up, until she was stopped cold by the screaming of every last muscle in her body – half of which she'd had no idea she even possessed. _Oh. Right._ With the aches came a quick recall of the previous night's events, and gradually the girl forced herself to her feet, upon which she could see sufficiently to figure out what the laughter was all about.

Bree and Bren, completely saddle-free, were romping about like two very young children on the grassy knoll just above the copse where they had spent the night. They were apparently playing an odd version of tag, with the pursuer nipping the shoulder of the pursued whenever the two caught up to each other. Shasta, meanwhile, was kneeling on the ground laughing uproariously. Finally, appearing to tire of the game, Bree leaped over his sister's back and dove into a gloriously hilarious roll. _Ha. Shasta's one to laugh. He did that all the time when he was learning to walk._ Nevertheless, Shen found herself chuckling along with her brother, who was now doubled over on the ground in near-hysterics, which were renewed when Bren promptly imitated her brother with a facetiously theatrical relish.

Finally, Bree, noticing the siblings' laughter, stopped rolling and stared at them. "If it puts you in that good a mood," he said, "you really should join us. There's nearly nothing more refreshing than a good hard roll or two."

But Shasta, still laughing loudly, could barely choke out, "You two look so _funny_ when you're on your backs!"

"I look nothing of the sort," replied the horse, but when he heard his sister's chuckling snort, he raised himself to his feet and regarded the boy more intently. "Does it really look funny?" he asked, almost plaintively.

"Yes!" replied both Shasta and Bren at once. Shen merely grinned.

"Oh, dear," said Bree. "You don't think, do you, that it might be a thing _talking _horses never do – a silly, clownish trick I've learned from the dumb ones? It would be dreadful to find, when we get back to Narnia, that I've picked up a lot of low, bad habits. What do you humans think? Honestly, now. Should you think the real, free horses – the talking kind – do roll?"

His three companions all spoke at once.

"Way to call me a low, bad-habit-ridden idiot," muttered Bren, at the same time Shasta began, "What does it even matter?", and Shen put in, "Well, technically we wouldn't know, seeing as we haven't met any other talking horses."

They all stopped and stared at one another for a moment until Bren broke the silence. "The humans are both right, of course, Bree. You can't expect them to know what other talking horses do, and you know I don't care a whit. It's not an issue to get so troubled over. If the other talking horses think we're a bit odd, so be it. In any case, we'd best worry more about actually getting to Narnia rather than obsessing over the exact protocols we'll be expected to observe when we get there. Besides, the humans need food."

Shen and Shasta both found it impossible to disagree with this, and they promptly raided the saddlebags for breakfast. Between Shasta's appetite and Shen's annoyed efforts to ration his food intake – "Shasta, you'll eat through everything we have by the time we're halfway to Tashbaan at this rate!" – the two gave the horses nearly as much entertainment as the horses had provided them.

After breakfast, Shasta and Shen re-saddled and bridled the horses with a good deal of aching and groaning. When it came time to mount them, Shen once again failed so many times that the siblings were forced to devise an alternative method – which in this case involved Shasta gripping the reins directly below where they were attached to Bree's saddle-bow, flinging them across Bren's back as she stood right next to Bree, and letting Shen leap as far into the air as she could to grab them so he could haul her up. This, of course, produced a great deal of laughter from both Shasta and Bree – not to mention an outrageously exaggerated imitation by Shasta of his sister's antics – but Shen's relief at finally managing to mount was so great that she didn't mind her brother's teasing as much as she usually did. _It's not worth it; I need to save my breath for having to mount again when I fall off. And Bren gives an incredibly withering death-glare._

Several hours later, and with only about two-thirds the number of falls they'd had the previous day under their belts, Shen and Shasta dismounted the horses in a grove just outside the first village they'd seen in two days. Shen was particularly grateful, as she wasn't sure her clenched muscles could survive even a slight incline at a trot, let alone another fall. However, both saddlebags were empty, which she knew meant they would have to obtain food in the village.

"I'll do it," volunteered Shasta, who had never terribly minded journeying to the village near the cottage with Arsheesh to sell fish; he'd always loved seeing the animals there and had learned a good deal about negotiating food prices. Shen, on the other hand, had never warmed up to people easily, had never particularly taken to anybody except for Hashim and Ruhandi, and had always abhorred the endless shouting and noise of the tiny market square.

"Oh, no you don't," she nevertheless objected almost before her brother's words had left his mouth. "Not without me, Shasta. We have to stick together; things are far less likely to happen to us that way." (Here Shasta turned to Bree and mouthed _Technically_, which caused Bree to emit a snorting chuckle.) "Besides – " she shot Bree a glare – "if we're being followed, two pairs of eyes are more likely to spot it than one."

"Oh, for heaven's _sake_, Shen, I'm not a baby – " Shasta began, but his sister once again cut him off.

"I _know _you're not a baby, Shasta, so grow up and stop acting like one. I'm dead serious. You either go in with me, or don't go in at all."

Shasta opened his mouth, turned to Bree for support, perceived the _I-shan't-touch-it-with-a-ten-foot-pole _look on his face, and immediately snapped his mouth shut.

"I suppose you're both feeling up to it, though?" queried Bree after a moment of silence. "You've both taken a good deal of falls. Not that they haven't improved your riding, but you two _are _becoming a bit black-and-blue to look at."

Shasta shot him a grin and stalked off toward the village. Shen smiled in spite of herself, grabbed the money purse out of Bree's saddlebag, quickly arranged to meet the horses in the grove half an hour later, and hurried to catch up to her brother.

Fortunately, Shen's worries proved largely unfounded. The village much resembled their own in population, market size, and number of apparently ownerless barking dogs – Shen's least favorite attribute of any village, market noise and all. However, there was no sign of pursuit whatsoever – as Shasta sarcastically told her once they'd made their purchases and left, she'd been so busy glancing nervously at the dogs that followed them everywhere that she'd either have noticed any pursuers right away (if they'd been anywhere near the dogs) or failed to notice them completely (if they'd been smart, avoided the dogs, and darted out from some dark alley). Shen lightly smacked him upside the head (which, she noted, was now alarmingly higher than her own) and retorted that _he_'d been so busy charming the merchant from whom they'd bought their food, he'd been far less likely than she to notice anything. Not that she'd exactly minded the extra loaf of bread bony but soft-eyed woman had slipped into Shasta's hands upon hearing about the horribly long, dangerous journey they were undertaking – but, as she'd pointed out to her brother, there were any number of people in the village who needed extra bread at least as much as he did. "And besides, if anybody does come through there asking about us, she'll be much more likely to remember us passing through than if you'd just stuck a cork in it to begin with."

"In what? The bread?" Shasta asked innocently, then ducked to avoid a second playful blow from his sister.

About two weeks later, Shen experienced her first fall-free day. _About time, too_, she reminded herself. _Shasta's been riding without falling for days. Of course, I only fell once each for the last few days. And the one yesterday wasn't really my fault. Bree just _had _to dart into the widest part of that river because my idiot brother wanted to see a "proper" demonstration of the night-long river swim of the Tisroc's Second Cavalry before the Battle of Zeshtor. It's no wonder Bren got so startled she jumped._

Still, Shen hadn't held the incident against Bree for long. She'd honestly enjoyed the horse's battle stories at least as much as her brother had – _well, no, we just enjoyed hearing different parts of the same stories._ While Shasta possessed an appetite for the details of the battles themselves, Shen had loved hearing about why the battles had been fought in the first place, and who had fought in them, and how they were related to their enemies (and enemies who were related to each other seemed to be a fairly common occurrence in Bree's tales) or the Tarkaan Bree had just discussed in his last story. He was an excellent storyteller, Shen reflected – a point Bren agreed with, for she did not often add to her brother's rousing anecdotes except to clear up some factual matter Bree had forgotten or made unclear in his focus on the heat of the battle. However, even Bree had his limits; after a while, it became clear that he was relating stories more to satisfy the humans' curiosity than to fulfill any desire of his own to relive the memories. "They were only the Tisroc's wars," he'd said at the end of yesterday's tale, "and I fought in them as a slave and a dumb beast. Give me the Narnian wars where I shall fight as a free horse among my own people! Those will be wars worth talking about. Narnia and the North!"

Four weeks or so after that, when Shen could finally boast of seven successive days in the saddle without falling, she and her brother slept much later than usual into the day, and the horses seemed in no particular hurry to prod them on right away, so they waited until evening to set out. The ground had leveled out somewhat; their journey began in the middle of a nearly-mile-wide plain bounded on the left by a forest and on the right by a few rolling sand dunes and the sea.

About an hour into their journey, both horses suddenly pulled up to a stop.

"What's the matter?" exclaimed Shasta at once.

"Sssshhh!" hissed the combined voices of his sister and both horses.

"Listen," Bren continued after a moment. "There's another horse behind us, closer to the woods than we are – about a few hundred yards away at most."

"Isn't it probably just a farmer riding home late?" said Shasta with a yawn.

"Don't tell me!" Bree cut in sharply. "_That_'s not a farmer's riding. Nor a farmer's horse either. Can't you tell by the sound? That's quality, that horse is. And it's being ridden by a real horseman. I'm almost certain there's a Tarkaan under the edge of that wood. Not on his war horse – it's too light for that. On a fine blood mare, I should say."

At the word _Tarkaan_, both Shasta and Shen stiffened immediately. _Oh, blast it. Oh, double and triple blast it._

Just then Bren's ears twitched. "Bree, he's stopped!" she hissed.

"He's seen us, hasn't he?" Shen's hands instinctively tightened white-knuckled and white-fingered on Bren's saddle-bow in fright.

"Not in this light," Bren replied. Seeing both siblings' unconvinced looks, she added, "But look! There's a cloud headed toward the moon. Let's wait till it's covered, then we'll gallop toward the shore. We can hide among those sand dunes if we need to."

The five seconds the cloud took to obscure the moon could not have passed quickly enough. Both horses immediately began to canter toward the shore. _Tash save us, _was the only thought that Shen's overwhelmed mind would hold. _Please let us get to the shore. Please. _

They had very nearly reached their destination when, from out of the dunes almost directly to their right, a thundering roar echoed across the sand dunes. Shen would have sworn she felt the ground shake under Bren's feet.

She thought the horses had been galloping before, but in the time it took Bree to fairly scream, "Lion!", they both exploded into a heart-stopping pace that immediately drove all ability to think out of Shen's mind completely. She could only twist her hands into Bren's mane and hang on for dear life as the horses thundered back inland toward the forest.

Shortly after they had crossed a stream about a mile or two from where they'd first heard the roaring, Bree and Bren slowed down into a trot. Both horses – not to mention their riders, were noticeably shaking.

"Let's hope the water threw the beast off our scent," panted Bren at the same time Bree began moaning, "Should be ashamed of myself – scared as a common, dumb Calormene horse – "

But neither horse had a chance to finish, for just then a similarly fearsome roar broke out from the forest to their left.

In less time than it took Bree to grunt, "Two of them," both horses took off once again. Shen shut her eyes this time, but popped them back open at once when she heard Shasta wheeze beside her, "Bree, look out for the Tarkaan – just a few yards away – gaining on us – "

"Better," gasped Bree. "Will have a sword – protect us all – "

"N-nnn-nnoooo," Shen fairly squeaked. "Better a lion than Anradin – Arsheesh – Atish – "

"Bree!" Bren managed to gasp, and began veering toward the dunes again. Bree immediately followed her, and to her minute relief Shen noticed that the Tarkaan had begun to mirror their actions to the left, but not a minute later two more roars – louder if possible than the first two – sounded simultaneously, one from the forest and the other from the dunes.

Some distracted corner of Shen's mind began to wonder if what the horses had done before could even properly be called galloping, or whether there was some word to describe a gait faster than galloping, for the roars inspired Bree and Bren to some burst of speed Shen had had no idea any earthly creature could reach. They did not slow or stop, either, since the lions, who appeared to be keeping up with all three horses quite easily, kept on roaring with no sign of ceasing.

Blurring light and shadows were all Shen ever remembered seeing for the next several minutes. Finally, the moon burst free of the cloud, illuminating a significant amount of water straight in front of them, into which both horses plunged without hesitation. Fortunately, the water was not deep at all, so the horses' pace didn't slow. Shen had no idea, then or ever, what had possessed her to do it, but she spared a brief glance to her left to see if the other horse had fallen behind them.

Unfortunately, it had gotten closer if anything, and Shen could now clearly make out the silhouette of the rider. _It looks a bit small for a Tarkaan,_ rambled the detached corner of her brain, but before she could think any further, she felt a wave splash her face, then became aware of Bren's legs buckling beneath her. Whipping her head around, she saw that all three horses – _oh, thank the gods Shasta's all right –_ had begun to swim in what was plainly a finger of the sea, reaching farther inland than was its usual custom.

_So we're to die by drowning instead,_ thought Shen, but was jarred out of her morbid reverie by a roar coming from – could it actually be _behind _them? Daring a backward glance, she discovered that the lion had indeed perched on the inlet shore behind them, apparently daring to go no farther. She closed her eyes, both in sheer fright and in anticipation of a roar from the other lion, but it never came.

Then, all of a sudden, Bren's legs found firm ground again – and, Shen noted to her immense relief, so did Bree's, right beside her.

Shen immediately wheeled around in her saddle and found herself not ten feet from the Tarkaan, mount and all.

_If he takes one look at us, we're pig-roast._

"Oh, I _am_ so tired," sighed – _Oh, no. That definitely wasn't Bren._

_I have got to be imagining this._

"Hold your tongue, Hwin, and don't be a fool," hissed – _And that _definitely _wasn't me._

_I have _really _got to be imagining this._


	7. Chapter 6

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: This formerly out-of-work temp has now become a temp with**__**an 8-hour-a-day job, so I don't have as much time to write now as I did previously. Don't lose heart, though; I remain entirely committed to continuing this story. I just won't be cranking out one to two chapters per day. Please keep reading & reviewing – I love your feedback!**

**Chapter 6**

Shen's astonishment held her speechless and motionless as the mysterious rider pulled the reins to urge her horse onward, but Bree more than made up for that. With a jerk that nearly toppled Shasta from his saddle, the excitable stallion quickly trotted in front of the mare, effectively barring her path.

"Broo-hoo-hah!" he whinnied. "Steady there! I _heard_ you, I did. There's no good pretending, Ma'am. _I _heard you. You're a talking horse, a Narnian horse just like me."

"What's it got to do with you if she is?" retorted the rider sharply. She was facing Shen very nearly head-on, which dealt the latter another shock: Though clad in rather bulky battle armor from head to toe, she could hardly be any older than Shasta – if she was even _that_ old.

Shasta, however, was less impressed. "Why, it's only a girl!" he exclaimed.

"Excuse me?" interjected both Bren and Shen almost immediately.

However, the young rider's outraged voice rose above both of theirs. "And what business is it of yours if I am _only_ a girl?" she retorted, her voice accented with the cultured cadences Shen had detected in the voices of Arsheesh's Tarkaan visitors. "You're probably only a boy: a rude, common little boy – a slave, probably, who's stolen his master's horse."

"Oh, no, he isn't!" Shen's surging indignation finally eclipsed her shock (although not all of her caution). "He's not a slave, _I_'m not a slave, and – and – he didn't steal anything!"

"They're not thieves, Tarkheena," Bree cut in. "At least, if there's been any stealing, you might as well say _we _stole _them_. And as for its not being my business, you wouldn't expect me to pass a lady of my own race in this strange country without speaking to her?" (Here Bren gave a spectacular eyeroll that, sadly enough, only Shen witnessed.) "It's only natural I should."

"I think it's very natural, too." The smaller mare's voice skittered with a very slight nervousness, but her relief at being joined by two others of her kind seemed whole-hearted enough to Shen.

"I wish you'd hold your tongue, Hwin," the girl fairly snapped. "Look at the trouble you've got us into."

"I don't know about trouble." Shasta was clearly determined to outdo the Tarkheena's unfriendliness. "You can clear off as soon as you like. We shan't keep you – "

Shen shot him her most quelling _You-shut-it-while-I-try-to-figure-a-way-out-of-the-colossal-hole-you-just-dug_ look, and for once he subsided. "We certainly wouldn't want to keep you from your extremely important errand, whatever it is," she ground out, unable to keep the defensive edge out of her voice entirely. "If you abhor our common company so much, we certainly don't wish to offend you any longer." _Oh, the things I wish I could add to that to lower her fine little nose out of the air! But, being a Tarkheena and all, she probably knows Anradin and Atish, and gods only know what will happen if she's angry enough to spill this tale to them. I wish Shasta would learn to bite his own tongue – hard – more often._

The girl looked ready to shoot back a stinging retort of her own, but Bren stepped forward so as to place herself slightly more squarely between Shasta and the Tarkheena. "We may as well not start a real quarrel," she said, "without introducing ourselves to our fellow combatants." She turned her head a bit more and addressed the girl's horse directly. "My name is Bren, and my brother's is Bree," she offered, "and our background is no doubt somewhat similar to yours. Were you by any chance captured as a foal and sold to slavery among the Calormenes?"

"Very true, unfortunately." The smaller horse's voice had almost completely dropped the skitter. "My name is Hwin, and this is – "

"There's no need, Hwin," the Tarkheena interrupted her hastily, her nose still slightly upturned. "Just tell them to mind their own business, and we'll be on our way."

"No, I won't, Aravis." Even the rude girl seemed startled at this sudden firmness on the part of the soft-spoken mare. "This is my escape just as much as yours. And I'm sure that noble war horses like these are not going to betray us." She eyed both Bree and Bren directly. "We are trying to escape, to get to Narnia."

"_Both_ of you?" _What in the name of all the gods is a _Tarkheena _doing trying to get to Narnia? And if she's really so eager to live there, why does she roll her eyes like that every time she looks at a Narnian? _

"It's a long story," Aravis said, her voice still stiff, after an uncomfortable pause.

"Good!" answered Bree. "I love stories. Why don't we exchange ours while we continue on? I trust, Madam Hwin – " here he addressed Hwin directly, earning another eyeroll from Bren – "that you will accept such assistance and companionship as we may be able to provide on the journey?"

"_Why_ do you address yourself so to my horse and not to me?" demanded Aravis. _Amazing. Has this girl ever _not_ gotten her way in her entire life? Still, even Shasta had stopped whining like that by the time he was six years old._

"Excuse me, Tarkheena." Even Bren's usually persistent patience appeared to have run out at last. "That's Calormene talk. We horses are free Narnians – as, almost certainly, are Shasta and Shen, who are free _northerners _in any case – and if you want to live in Narnia, you'll have to be one too. In that case Hwin isn't _your _horse any longer. One might just as well say you're _her _human."

Aravis opened her mouth, then snapped it shut without a word.

"To answer your question, Sir Bree and Madam Bren," replied Hwin, causing Bree to lower his head and (Shen would have sworn) very nearly blush and Bren to kick him slightly in the shin, "my human and her horse gratefully accept your invitation. Might I suggest, though, that we rest first before continuing? We've all run a very long way, and perhaps a respite would give us a chance to cool our heads – " (here Aravis rolled her eyes) " – and fill our stomachs."

"Excellent," said Bren briskly. "We would be honored to travel with you, Hwin – as long, of course, as we drop the silly titles amongst ourselves. We are, after all, each other's equals, as our humans are their own equals."

Aravis looked positively mutinous. "You're sure about that?" she asked. "These two – " gesturing mainly, however, to Shasta – "aren't spies just pretending to escape?"

Shasta immediately began to say something, but Shen beat him to it. "Well," she retorted, "seeing as how we're both running for our lives from Tarkaans who want nothing more than to enslave us, technically – " (bringing a barely-restrained grin to her brother's lips) " – shouldn't _we _be worrying about whether or not _you're _a spy?"

_Shen, seriously, _why _did you have to choose today as the one day in your life to display impertinence? If that girl _is _a spy, you're pig-roast._

However, Aravis appeared to have finally run out of arguments. She leaped out of her saddle, landed gracefully on her feet, and began removing Hwin's equipment.

"So _technically_," Shasta whispered to Shen as they unloaded their own horses, "you want to travel with her just as much as I do, don't you?"

Shen promptly stuck out her tongue at him.

While the three humans sat in an uneasy triangular formation and ate from their saddlebags, the horses immediately began talking to each other, seemingly as determined to get along as their humans were _not _to get along. Shen was rather astonished to learn that Narnian horses kept highly precise family trees – before long, Bree and Bren had discovered that they were Hwin's second cousins once removed. _I should ask Bren what "removed" means some time soon – when that Aravis is riding far enough away from us, that is. I really don't need her to think I'm any less intelligent than she already believes I am._

"Enough stories from us," Bren finally interjected, now addressing Aravis. "It would seem you're harboring an interesting one of your own, and the one thing I do miss about living among our Tarkaans' people is the storytelling."

Shen surreptitiously rolled her eyes. _Of course the Tarkaans' people are the best storytellers, _she reflected. _They have all the time they desire to concentrate on being tutored in the art. They don't have to spend their days doing honest work. Oh, no, did I just think that? I am sounding far too much like Arsheesh. _ But her curiosity got the better of her, and she re-fastened the saddlebags and turned to listen to the Tarkheena's tale.

"My name is Aravis Tarkheena," she began. "I am the only daughter of Kidrash Tarkaan, the son of Rishti Tarkaan, the son of Kidrash Tarkaan, the son of Ilsombreh Tisroc, the son of Ardeeb Tisroc, who was descended in a right line from the god Tash." _Hm. I guess I can't lay all the blame on this girl for the snob she is. Everybody knows – or so Arsheesh always said, and for once I believe him – that the closer the Tarkaan family's descent from a Tisroc, the less real work they do, and the more they teach their sons and daughters to turn up their noses at everybody else._

"My mother (upon whom be the peace of the gods) is dead," Aravis continued, "and my father has married another wife. One of my brothers has fallen in battle against the rebels in the far west and the other is a child. Now it came to pass that my stepmother hated me, and the sun appeared dark in her eyes as long as I lived in my father's house. And so she persuaded my father to promise me in marriage to Ahoshta Tarkaan. Now this Ahoshta is of base birth – " _Amazing. He must have been one mere generation further descended from a Tisroc than she. I'm sure that would more than justify her turning up her cute little nose at him._ " – and moreover, he is at least sixty years old and has a hump on his back and his face resembles that of an ape. Nevertheless my father, due to this Ahoshta's wealth and power, sent messengers offering me in marriage, and Ahoshta agreed and sent word that he would marry me this very year at the time of high summer.

"When this news was brought to me the sun appeared dark in my eyes and I laid myself on my bed and wept for a day." _Ha! She should have lived with Arsheesh for a day instead. Now _that_'s something to weep about. Not that I would want to marry a man like this Ahoshta, either, but even that would be very preferable to being leered at, grabbed at, and…worse…from all the unsavory characters I've encountered._

"When my mare and I reached the wood," Aravis was saying, "I dismounted and took out the dagger. Then I placed it as close as I could to my heart and prayed to all the gods that as soon as I was dead I might see my brother again." _All right, _that_ is an overreaction. I wonder how many minutes she'd have spent in Arsheesh's house before flying off to take a sword to herself?_ "But before the dagger had so much as pierced my skin, this mare spoke with the voice of one of the daughters of men and said, 'O my mistress, do not by any means destroy yourself, for if you live you may yet have good fortune but all the dead are dead alike.'"

Hwin let out a gentle whicker. "I didn't say it half so well as that."

"Hush!" Bree interjected. "She's telling it in a manner befitting the greatest storytellers in the Tisroc's halls. Pray go on, Tarkheena."

"I knew at once that I must be suffering from delusions in fear of death," Aravis continued, "and I became full of shame, for none of my lineage out to fear death more than the biting of a gnat." _And none of your lineage ever ought to be allowed outside your gilded palace walls, either, lest you distract the rest of us by whining, sobbing, and stabbing yourselves and wreaking worse havoc than a sea-storm run amok. _"But Hwin came near to me and put her head in between me and the dagger and gently reprimanded and counseled me as a mother speaks to her daughter. And she told me about Narnia, where there are beasts that talk, and woods and waters and castles of great beauty. And I said, 'In the name of Tash and Azaroth and Zardeenah, Lady of the Night, I wish to travel to this country of Narnia.' 'O my mistress,' answered the mare, 'if you did, you would be filled with joy, for in that land no maiden is forced to marry against her will.'"

No_ maiden, hm? I wonder if the protection extends to doing anything said maiden does not desire _before_ marriage, as well? Or is it just too much to hope for, as the rest of Narnia seems to be? It certainly sounds like an enormous untruth. Of course, it can't be _that _much stranger than a nation full of inhabitants who have no masters…_

"When I came out from the presence of my father," Aravis was saying, "I went immediately to his secretary, who had dandled me on his knees when I was a baby and loved me much as a child of his own. And I swore him to secrecy and begged him to write a letter for me – which he did in spite of his great unwillingness. Then I called the maid whom I had told my father would accompany me on my three-day journey to perform the rites of Zardeenah and gave her wine to drink; but I had filled the glass with herbs that would cause her to sleep for a full day. Then, as soon as my father's entire household had fallen into slumber, I arose and put on my brother's armor, which I always kept in my chamber in his memory. I put into my girdle all the money I had, along with certain choice jewels, food, and drink. I saddled Hwin and directed my course away from the woods, north and east to Tashbaan.

"Now for three days and more I knew that my father would not seek me, and on the fourth we arrived at the city of Azim Balda. Now from Azim Balda the messengers of the Tisroc (may he live forever) ride on swift horses to every part of the empire; and the greater Tarkaan families have long had the right to use these messengers at their will. I therefore went to a messenger of high rank and directed him to send my letter to my father; and he replied, 'To hear is to obey.'

"Now this letter was feigned to be written by Ahoshta, and described his great joy upon finding me in the forest at the conclusion of my rites while journeying to my father's house to take me for his wife. The letter advised my father that Ahoshta and I had become inflamed with passion upon seeing each other, and that it appeared to both of us that the sun would appear dark in our eyes if we did not marry at once, and so accordingly we made the necessary sacrifices, were wed in that very spot, and journeyed back to Ahoshta's house. My father's secretary, inscribing my words, had concluded the letter by saying that my new husband and I would rejoice even more greatly if my father would join us at once with my dowry.

"As soon as I had done this I rode on in all haste from Azim Balda, fearing no pursuit and expecting that my father, having received such a letter, would send messages to Ahoshta or go to him himself, and that before the matter was discovered I should be beyond Tashbaan. And that is the pith of my story until this very night, when I was chased by lions and met you at the swimming of the salt water."

"And what happened to the girl – the one you drugged?" Shasta queried. _Good. He hasn't lost _all_ of his sense yet._

"Doubtless she was beaten for sleeping late." Aravis shrugged nonchalantly. "But she was a tool and spy of my stepmother's. She deserved to be beaten for it."

_So, in other words, you're glad she was beaten for following orders she had no choice but to obey. I'd far rather be traveling with her right now than you._

But it was Shasta who spoke for them both. "I say, that was hardly fair!"

"I did not do any of these things for the sake of pleasing _you_," retorted Aravis.

_How on earth has this girl's horse managed to carry her this far with a head as big as that? Actually, how has she gotten this far without her head bursting altogether? Well, Arsheesh and Neresh both always did say that Tarkaans have the biggest treasuries _and_ the biggest heads in the world. Hm._

By the time Shen had cooled down a bit, Bree was finishing the story of how he and Bren had met up with the two humans at Arsheesh's cottage. "We are nearing the end of the second month of our journey," he said, "and now, three thousand or so falls into it on the part of our lovely humans – " here he let out a whinnying chuckle, which Bren quickly cut short with a withering look – "my sister and I have made rather fine riders of them, if I say so myself."

"Thank you, Bree," offered Shen, quickly standing to her feet. "Your fine riders, however, are a bit overwhelmed by the night's events and our _distinguished _company." Levelly regarding Aravis out of the corner of her eye but never looking at the girl directly, she turned to face her brother. "I propose we make our camp here for the remainder of the night so as to make an early start in the morning."

To Shen's slight surprise, nobody had any problem with this, and not a quarter of an hour (and a few very stiffly polite "Good night"s) later, the entire party had bedded down. Not, however, before Shen had whispered instructions to both Bree and Bren that they should wake her and her brother at once if Aravis and her horse were to wake up and depart on their own.

"Oh, they wouldn't dream of it," Bree assured her almost airily. "We Narnians stick together, and my sister and I fought alongside the Tarkheena's father and brother in one or two battles. Granted, they're quite aware of their greatness, but what Tarkaan isn't? And theirs is a highly loyal family – extremely dependable. Once they've made you a promise, they'll stick to it – and you."

Shen bit back a sharp _And you really think I _want _this girl to "stick" with us?_ Instead, she merely said, "I don't doubt your words, especially about Hwin. I suppose time will have to tell about her, um, human."

Bren cracked a grin. "Yes, I've noticed that you and your brother like her almost as much as she likes you."

"No, we like her _more_," interjected Shasta sarcastically, then dramatically straightened his back, stuck his nose into the air, and swung his voice upward into an uncanny simulation of Aravis's clear, measured cadences. "The sun shall appear dark in our eyes should she ever choose to depart from our presence."

Even Shen couldn't withhold an amused snort.


	8. Chapter 7

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Just to clarify – the only characters I own here are Shen and Bren! C.S. Lewis owns everything else.**

**Chapter 7**

As was her habit, Bren made sure everyone was roused and ready to leave an hour or two after dawn the following morning. Everyone, that is, except for Aravis, who apparently loved early starts as much as her traveling companions' mare did.

Even allowing for the relatively small amount of sleep she'd had the previous night, Shen was feeling particularly ill-tempered and out of sorts when she arose. She'd had the dream about the raft, the sea, and the Lion again. This time, it had dovetailed with a nightmare in which she'd been sleeping in a trunk, then yanked out of it by a tall, thin, pale-skinned man in strange-looking blue and white clothes. He set her on a nearby table with a great deal of ease – it seemed she'd shrunk a good deal in size – where she'd been approached by a man who was dressed in purple, white, and black robes, and chanting in a strange language. His skin, she noticed, was normally colored, although in her dream she seemed to be afraid of it. He held a small, black, solid-looking bottle in one hand and a tiny metal rod adorned with what looked like miniature flames in the other. Without warning, he plunged the end of the rode into Shen's arm, causing her to scream so loudly in pain that her ears began to hurt. In fact, they'd still ached when she'd awakened. And they hadn't been alone; she'd also felt a mild burning sensation in her right forearm. Grumpily, she'd rubbed her scar, which she still sometimes did – although not infected or prone to pain, the stupid thing, unlike the scars from Arsheesh's beatings, had barely faded over time, remaining stubbornly red – and risen to her feet, her ears ringing, before stumbling over a rock and plunking right back down on the ground.

Given the way her day had begun, Shen was none too surprised when her first attempt at mounting Bren landed her in a heap in the dirt. _Of course it had to be right in front of that Tarkheena, though. And of course she's an expert horsewoman. Lovely._ Not unsurprisingly, her nerves got the best of her, and she fell again before finally succeeding on her third try. _Oh, this is going to be a wonderful day. At least Shasta didn't laugh at me this time, though._

Shen spent most of the day alternately yawning, trying not to fall off of Bren, and listening to Bree (and sometimes his sister) sharing stories with Aravis, who knew many Tarkaans with whom the horses had become acquainted during various battles. Whether the girl considered the two horses closer than Shasta and Shen to being her equals (or at least equals to her own mount), or whether she simply enjoyed their company and liked hearing battle stories as much as Shasta did, Shen didn't know. However, as she witnessed the banter among the three during the days that followed, she had to admit that when Aravis actually shut up, listened, and dropped her formerly stiff manner, she could actually laugh, smile, and come across as almost decent. _I didn't even think she _could _look anything other than snooty when I first met her. _Even Bree, who had appeared to share Shen's opinions about the girl, and who normally did not care to talk too much about the wars he and Bren had participated in, seemed to warm to the girl over recalling their mutual acquaintances.

About a week after Aravis had joined them, she and Bree discovered their mutual acquaintance with Errath, a Tarkaan who had spent many summer days at Aravis's father's palace. Bren had taken an interest in this particular discussion, so Shen could not help but listen in as the two horses began relating some of their adventures. Bree was just commenting on Errath's excellent swimming skills, "which, of course, helped save us all in the Second Cavalry when – "

"Wait!" Five heads whipped around to stare at Shen, and her saddle jarred ever so slightly from the sudden hitch in Bren's startled step. _Oh, come on. The fact that I can talk shouldn't be that much of a revelation. Although I really haven't done much of it the past week or so. Trying to plan for any and every situation that might arise while traveling through the biggest, most dangerous city I've ever heard of, all while avoiding death or capture by one or other of the people who are sure to be chasing us down by now, is rather difficult, after all. It requires so much thought, I guess it just doesn't leave a great deal of room for talking._

_Oh, right. I was saying…_"Is that the same Errath who served under Tarkaan General Meghdad in the Battles of Zeshtor and Toresh?"

Aravis's jaw dropped ever so slightly. "How did you know…?"

Shen shrugged. "Bree told us about it some time ago."

Even Shasta stared at this. "I don't remember that!"

Shen shot him an ever-so-slight eyeroll. "You couldn't remember the names of the countries in the northern wars Hashim told us about, either."

Shasta rolled his eyes right back at her, but Aravis only seemed more confused. "You two…had a teacher?"

"No," Shen replied, as coolly as she could. _Oh, blast it. I wonder if she'll explode from the shock of discovering that we actually _know _something besides how to clean houses and mend nets. Or if she'll be so scandalized by it that she'll abandon us and turn us in to the first old friend she happens to meet when we get to the city._ "We were acquainted with a man in the nearby village who knew some letters and history. He occasionally told us stories to amuse us." _And don't you _dare _let her know that we learned to write, Shasta. Or, rather, that _I _learned to write, since you were only too happy to stop learning once you'd figured out your name and mine._

"Oh." _Amazing. I never thought I'd be able to render her speechless. While I'm at it, though…_ "He was the one whose sister the twin Tarkaans Kamran and Kedron fought over for her hand in marriage to start the Cross-Provincial War between Senemesh and Leznin, right?" _Besides, I really can't quite remember whether it was him or that other Tarkaan – oh, what was his name? Emeth? Eshamath? – whose sister those rulers fought over._

But Bree answered, "Yes," and Shen found herself too curious to refrain from asking, "Who was the other Tarkaan with a name like his, then? The one who hid his reinforcements behind the dunes in the Desert Battle of Porior?"

"Oh, that was Eshamath," replied Bree. "Come to think of it, he even _looked _like Errath. He was quite a bit more daring, though. Defied his commander to pull that trick. He was the only Tarkaan in history who – "

"Disobeyed his commander, won the battle, and was not beheaded afterward," Shen finished with him; Shasta had, after all, asked to hear the story on more than one occasion before they had met up with Aravis.

"Well, the Tarkaans of the Southwestern Alliance did need the little bugger, after all," muttered Bree, obviously just now realizing how often he'd repeated himself. "That provincial war over the Tarkheena Esme did cost them a goodly number of soldiers and strategists."

"Well," pointed out an apparently-recovered Aravis, "the Tarkaan Kamran could have ended the conflict in a much timelier manner if he simply would have signed the treaty his brother proposed after he formed the alliance with Senemesh to claim her hand."

"Ah, he could have," Bren put in, "but all too many of those great lords lack the prudence to gain what victory may be had by ending a conflict they insist on prolonging past its usefulness. Not unlike some of their horses…"

Here Bree gave a mighty snort and trotted off rapidly. Shasta's howls of laughter drifted back to the two girls, who both began chuckling themselves. _All right, so she has a sense of humor after all. Maybe Shasta and Bren are rubbing off on her. _ Even Hwin, normally so placidly reserved, was grinning.

"Well, he _did _ask for it," said Bren, once her fit of laughter had simmered down. "You should have seen him when we played games together as foals. Every time I won a game, he insisted on making it a best-of-three-rounds competition. If I won a second time, he'd change it to five, and so on. He'd wear himself half to death before he'd admit I beat him!"

"I think it's just something about brothers," Shen answered, then abruptly stopped. _Oh, blast it, I forgot Aravis just lost one of her brothers. I probably shouldn't have said it like that – no, I _definitely _shouldn't have said it like that._ "Or Tarkaans, or – " _And that was so much better. Way to jam your foot further down in your mouth!_

" – or young males of any species, really," Bren stepped in. "Anybody who's seen red peacocks knows that. Their newly-mature males would rather preen than hunt – especially in front of the females. I sometimes tell Bree he may as well have been born one of them instead."

"Better that than one of the purple ones, though," Hwin put in with complete sincerity, "seeing as how he isn't fond of the color."

Aravis cracked a wide smile at this; Shen, who was less accustomed to the mare's humbly practical personality and mannerisms, was surprised into laughter by the sheer unexpectedness of the statement. And, for some reason, the more she thought about it, the funnier it was.

Bree had slowed down by then, and the two mares had caught up to them. The first thing Shasta saw was his sister doubled over, howling.

"What's got her into such a fit?" he quizzically asked a somewhat-bewildered Aravis, who briefly explained.

"I didn't think it was _that _funny," Hwin put in mildly. "I didn't mean to make her laugh so hard she couldn't speak!"

"Oh, don't worry about that," answered Shasta with a shake of his head. "Girl gets funny in the head sometimes – I mean, _most _of the time – hey!" For Shen had finally gotten enough breath to reach out over Bree's back and smack her brother lightly on the shoulder. "Don't hit _me _for not liking your favorite color, that's Bree – "

"Well, it makes me shiver," Bree defended himself.

_"Ooohh-hooh-hooh,"_ Shasta half-neighed, in a near-perfect imitation of his mount. "I can't look at it! It's cold! It makes me _shiver_!" He shook his shoulders and rubbed his arms together dramatically, then raised his voice higher. _"Shiver! Shiver!"_

Shen was now sprawled helplessly over Bren's neck, shaking uncontrollably. "Shas…ta…" she finally gasped. "Stop…can't…_breathe_…"

This, of course, only encouraged her brother, who began "shivering" all over again. Aravis at first looked ready to roll her eyes and gallop on ahead of the siblings, but all at once her mouth quirked in a soft, reminiscent smile, and she slowed Hwin slightly to keep pace with Bren, who had herself slowed down so that Shen's nearly non-existent grip wouldn't cause her to fall.

That night, as she turned over on her stomach to sleep, Shen could have sworn her lungs still ached. _Honestly. I should have smacked Shasta harder. I _hate _it when he does that!_ Still, she reflected, perhaps his immaturity – not to mention her nerves – had done them more good than she'd thought. Once the laughter had died down, so had a great deal of Aravis's stiffness, and she'd actually asked them to choose the spot where the group would stop and eat in the middle of the day (she'd always done that particular job since meeting up with them).

During the next few day, Aravis went further and actually spoke to both Shasta and Shen – in complete sentences, no less, not just one or two words at a time – about something other than the practical necessities of the trip, namely, the summers she'd spent at Lake Mezreel in the Valley of the Thousand Perfumes as a child. "I used to play with my friend Lasaraleen Tarkheena there," she'd said. "She loved peacocks – of both colors, that is, sorry, Bree – and her father kept a couple of them for her as pets. We made hammocks with our mothers' old cloaks in the palm groves, and once she tried to put the peacocks in with us, but they got so scared they clawed through the fabric, and we all fell to the ground. Of course, I'd _told _her that would happen, but she didn't listen." A bit of the old stiffness crept back into her shoulders, and she said, "But that was a great many years ago. I haven't seen her in a while."

"Shen tried to do that once, too," offered Shasta. _Oh, no, you don't, little brother._ "Shasta – "

But her brother ignored her. "She wanted to make it easier for us to get up onto the donkey, so she tied together some of her old clothes and strung them between two nails on the stable walls. But the donkey got spooked and kicked it down, and we'd just new straw in the stable, so Shen fell off the clothes and got buried in the straw. You should have _seen _her when she finally got out from under it!"

Shen promptly threw a stick she'd found in the saddlebag that morning at his head, which it hit with a very slight but very satisfying _thwack_. Aravis cracked another smile and shook her head.

That night, they had the first of many discussions on how to get through Tashbaan, which was rapidly approaching by the horses' calculations. Shen, who had assumed all along that the road they'd been traveling parallel to would simply take them straight through the city, had been busy mentally planning for ways to deal with any possible snag that might crop up in that particular scenario. However, when the entire group began strategizing, she realized quickly that the city was situated on a built-up island in the middle of a vast river, and that their road would become a bridge that ran perpendicular to the river on both sides of Tashbaan.

"It would take a good deal longer to actually travel through Tashbaan than merely skirt around it, I think," Aravis posited. "There are always multitudes of people on the streets, and many processions as well, which always cause significant delays. Besides, there are a great number of Tarkaans and Tarkheenas in the city at any given time. A lot of them …know my father." _In other words, they'd recognize you. Although I suppose that's not really your fault. _ "So I propose that we travel by water." She eyed Bree and Bren directly. "Would you be amenable to waiting until nightfall and crossing the river east of the city?"

"I'm not so sure that would be the best idea, Tarkheena," replied Bree after a short pause. _Thank heavens. I'd fall off and drown for sure._ "That's the widest part of the river. I'm not entirely sure that – ummm-hmmmm – all of us – " (here he glanced nervously at Hwin) – "would be able to, hmmm-hmmm, swim all the way across."

"Oh, speak for yourself, dolt – " Bren immediately began, but Bree, raising his voice, doggedly continued.

"Also, the port area is on that side of the city. So many ships travel in and out of there, somebody aboard would be bound to spot us all, and then it would be curtains for our plan to get through the area – hmmm-hmmm – quietly."

"Well," Shasta ventured after a rather long, awkward pause, "why don't we try swimming across the river on the _other _side of the city? Didn't one of you say it's narrower there?" _Does nobody here fully understand yet just how clumsy I am?_

"Narrower, maybe," Bren answered immediately, "but probably no less dangerous. That's where the Tarkaans and Tarkheenas keep their summer homes and pleasure gardens, is it not, Aravis?"

Aravis nodded unhappily.

"So that's the path by which we're probably the likeliest to be recognized," continued Bren briskly, although slightly reluctantly; apparently that route would have been her first choice otherwise.

_Hm. I guess it's a good thing I've been working out emergency plans for going straight through the city after all._

"Perhaps we should consider going through it in disguise, then," suggested Hwin thoughtfully. _Blast it. With all my planning, I _definitely _should have thought of that before._ "After all, there are always crowds and crowds of humans – and horses – journeying through Tashbaan, and we'd be far less likely to be noticed as long as we stayed in the middle of them…especially if we make ourselves look different. All of the humans will have to dress in rags and look like peasants or slaves." Here Aravis opened her mouth indignantly, but apparently thought better of whatever she was about to say and allowed Hwin to continue. "And we will have to pack all Aravis's armor and our saddles and things into bundles and put them on our backs, and you three – " here she nodded toward the humans – "will have to pretend to drive us, so that people will think we're pack-horses."

At this Aravis could no longer restrain herself. "My dear Hwin!" she exclaimed in near-mortification. "As if anyone could mistake Bree and Bren for anything but war horses however you disguised them!"

"I should think not – " Bree agreed indignantly, laying his ears back ever so slightly.

" – but _I _think it's by far the best suggestion anybody has made so far," Bren cut him off, throwing him an extremely withering glare.

"I know it's not a _very_ good plan," Hwin conceded, "but, after all, we haven't been groomed for ages, and we're not looking quite ourselves – at least, I'm sure I'm not. I do think that if the humans would be so kind as to plaster us with mud, and if we go along with our heads down and our hoofs barely lifted at all – oh, and if our tails are cut shorter and more ragged – we might not be noticed at all."

"My dear Madam Hwin!" Bree's ears had gone back even farther by now. "Have you pictured to yourself how very disagree-hee-eee-able it would be to arrive in Narnia in _that _condition?"

"I don't think we'd have to have them cut _that _much shorter," Hwin continued gently.

"And besides," Bren cut in, this time kicking her brother solidly in the shin, "the main thing is to get there."

_Oh, lovely. Now I get to plan for what happens if Bree loses it and starts shouting that he's a war horse, in addition to what we'll do if we get recognized, caught, lost, separated, or…oh, right. _ "Speaking of getting there – is there a place we can meet up outside the city, if we happen to get separated? A place Shasta and I can find easily, since we've never been to Tashbaan before?"

"How about – " the ever-practical Bren shot a glance at Aravis after a pause – "the Tombs of the Ancient Kings, over on the north side? They're impossible to miss. They look like enormous stone beehives," she added in an aside to Shasta and Shen. "Besides, no Calormene will willingly approach them, except for during a royal funeral, because they think the place is haunted by ghouls."

"You're sure it isn't?" Aravis's eyes had now grown quite wide. _So there _is _something this girl is afraid of, after all._

Bree tossed his head – a bit too quickly, Shen thought. "Of course not! We're free Narnians now, and not bound by old Calormene superstitions. No offense, of course, Tarkheena. But I'm sure we shall be quite safe."

Bren tilted her head and then shook it, blowing out a long breath between her lips. _Hm. I never thought I'd meet a horse who could say "Liar" as well as I could, either._ Neither Bren nor Shen said anything, however, and after a moment Aravis tilted her chin in the by now familiar gesture. "Fine. If no free Narnian is bound by that superstition, then by extension neither am I."

"Anyway," said Hwin levelly, addressing Shen and Shasta, "once you exit the north gate at the far side of the city, and go over the bridge across the river and through the gardens, you'll turn west – to your left, that is – and you can't miss them."

"But how many are there?" Shen wanted to know. "And which one should we meet next to? We don't want to lose each other among them."

"True," answered Hwin. "There are – oh, how many, Aravis – about fifteen or twenty?"

Aravis frowned slightly. "I think so. And shouldn't we meet on the far side of the last one, farthest away from the city right on the edge of the desert? Nobody from the city would go that far."

"Technically, it _is _the least likely place to get caught," Shen agreed, nodding. Aravis and Shasta exchanged faint smiles, and Shen stuck out her tongue at her brother, which actually caused Aravis to giggle.

That night, they camped outside a village, where Shasta and Shen bought some suitably worn clothing for a grumpy Aravis, and the night after that they stayed outside a farm. Aravis and Shasta went to the house to beg for sacks and rope, but only after a rather heated discussion – the initial plan had been for Shasta to sneak into the barn and steal a few things, but Shen had put her foot down, objecting not just to the theft but also to the idea of sending Shasta anywhere alone. Finally, Aravis, looking rather as if someone was forcing her to spit every word out around an enormous lump in her throat, stiffly said that if any of them had to beg, it would have to be herself and Shasta, as they were the youngest and therefore the likeliest to draw sympathy, and besides, if she was supposed to act like a peasant on the trip through Tashbaan, she'd best get in some practice, as that sort of thing didn't exactly come naturally to her. Shen bit back a sarcastic remark when she saw the look on the girl's face; this task was clearly hard enough for her without anybody rubbing it in.

"Look," Shen said to the horses once her brother and the Tarkheena were on their way (not too far, as Shen had insisted on hunkering down in the nearest possible place they could stay without being seen by anybody in the house), "I know we've made plans for getting lost and separated, but what if Aravis is right and somebody _does _recognize her – or even us?"

"That's where the crowds should work in our favor," Bren answered. "We can't exactly duck and run, but we _can _duck, dodge, and get lost among the masses." She threw a sharp glance at her brother. "As long as the three of _us _remember not to talk, anyway." Bree rolled his eyes at her. "Besides, that's where having the tombs as a backup plan helps us. We can always separate if we need to, and _then _get lost."

"Oh, don't worry about me," muttered Shen. "I'll be lost already, trying not to fall down."

Hwin whickered reassuringly. "I don't think you have as much to worry about there as you think you do," she said gently. "Considering you've just learned to ride two months ago, you hold on very well."

Shen gave her a very small, embarrassed smile.

"In any case," put in Bree, "if all else fails, I can always start a disturbance so that you ladies, at least, can get away safely – "

Bren immediately opened her mouth indignantly, but Hwin beat her to the punch. "You are very kind," she reassured a suddenly-embarrassed Bree, "but I'm sure it won't be necessary. As your sister pointed out, the crowds should make it easy enough for us to get away."

"Get away from who?" came Shasta's panting voice from behind Shen, who whirled around, startled.

"Shasta, don't _do_ that!" Shen exclaimed in exasperation as Aravis came running up behind him, an annoyed grimace on her face. Clearly, she wasn't pleased at losing a foot race on top of having to disguise herself as a peasant. Shen glanced at the other girl. "Don't worry, Aravis, I'll punish him properly."

"Thank you!" Aravis gasped, at the same time as Shasta queried teasingly, "Punish me? How are you going to do that?"

"Oh, I'll just tell Aravis about when you were really little, and when Arsheesh – " the name stuck in her throat like a distasteful lump of stale bread – "would leave for the day and you would put…"

"All right!" Shasta's voice had taken on a distinct note of panic. "Fine! I won't do it again!"

Aravis managed to restrain herself from laughing, but both corners of her mouth quirked furiously. "I believe Shasta has a few things for you," she managed to emit in a remarkably level voice.

"Oh, yeah." A very red-faced Shasta handed Shen a few rough, worn sacks and several lengths of rope. "These should be enough, right?"

Bren eyed the goods critically, then nodded. "That should be enough rope to bridle all three of us – don't you think, Hwin?"

Hwin mirrored Bren's nod. "Yes, and enough to tie those bags on, too."

Two nights later, they stopped for the evening on a wooded hill at the rim of the valley containing Tashbaan. After eating, the three humans immediately set to work cutting the horses' tails – _thank goodness I thought to tell Shasta to buy a knife in that last village; it would be absolute madness trying to share Aravis's scimitar among all us_ – which was a very clumsy affair, resulted in Shen getting several cuts on her hands, and annoyed everybody greatly. Almost everybody, that is – Hwin bore Aravis's attempts with the scimitar, which was much less suited to the job than the small knife, with her usual placid patience. However, Bren whinnied in irritation if not pain several times, and Bree was in a downright foul mood long before the ordeal had ended.

"My word!" he finally exclaimed as Shasta sawed clumsily through a particularly thick strand. "If I wasn't a talking horse, what a lovely kick in the face I could give you! I thought you were going to cut it, not pull it out. That's what it feels like!"

"Sorry," muttered the harassed Shasta for the hundredth time or so, but that did not mollify Bree, who kept on grumbling long after the job was done and only shut up when Shen insisted they go over all of their plans – both main and contingency – in detail so that everybody understood each other clearly. Shasta rolled his eyes, and Aravis looked the tiniest bit insulted, but she finally sat down and joined the discussion without saying anything derogatory. _Thank heavens._

Despite all the preparations – or perhaps partly because of them – Shen tossed and turned endlessly on the ground that night. _If I keep doing this, I'll look as bad as I did during the first week of this trip, when I was covered in bruises, and then I'll get noticed tomorrow for sure._ She repeated the plans to herself over and over – _Lost? Follow the crowds out of the city, go west and find the tombs. Separated? Same thing. Recognized? Oh, brother. Stay with Shasta at all costs, _then _duck and run; with my luck, I'll trip and get good and lost in the crowd. Caught?…Just make sure they don't get Shasta. Not Aravis, either, if at all possible._ No matter how many times she went over everything in her mind, though, it refused to calm enough to let her sleep. _Oh, lovely. Now I'll have to travel straight through the most dangerous city in the world with no sleep to cope if anything goes wrong. And knowing my luck, something will _definitely _go wrong. Oh, Zardeenah, if you're ever going to hear me, even if you didn't before…a little help, just a little, please? I am far from perfectly pious, but I bowed at the village temple whenever I was there, and I make the prayers every morning – well, most mornings, I'm sorry I haven't gotten to it much during this trip – please? Especially since I ask for safety not for myself, as I did before, but for my brother and Aravis? Especially seeing as how I'm not going to sleep at all tonight?_

Fortunately, Shen was mistaken on that point, for toward dawn her body's exhaustion, incurred throughout a week of particularly poor sleep, finally won out over her troubled mind, and she drifted off into an uneasy slumber.

A couple of hours later, the Lion's face in the now all-too-familiar dream became Shasta's, and she felt him shaking her shoulder. "Shen? Are you all right? Can you get up now?"

Shen let out a protesting, gravel-voiced groan. "Mmmm…fine," she finally ground out. "I'm up."

Yawning profusely, she joined Shasta, Aravis, and the horses for a very hurried breakfast. Then, throwing their saddlebags into the empty sacks they'd obtained from the farm, the humans carefully bound the bags onto the horses' backs with some of the ropes, arranging them to make them look as full as possible. They then twisted the remaining ropes into makeshift bridles to complete the horses' disguises.

"Hm-hmmm-hmm!" grunted Bree in disgust. "I'm glad we're not in front of a pond right now; otherwise, if I looked in, I might just faint with embarrassment."

Aravis rolled her eyes and turned to Hwin. "Please _do_ try to keep my brother's armor safe," she said, and, despite her slightly sharp tone, the mare nodded and whinnied to reassure her.

"And try to keep our food safe, too." Shasta directed this last to Bren, who merely nodded and rolled her eyes. Shasta returned the gesture, then shivered in the early morning chill and yawned.

"In any case," Shen raised her worried voice a bit louder, "remember, if we get lost, we're meeting on the _far _side of the tomb nearest to – "

" – the desert," Shasta and Aravis finished with her, rolling their eyes.

Aravis turned sharply to Bree. "And remember," she admonished in a tone at once both stern and urgent, "don't you three forget yourselves and start _talking_, whatever happens."


	9. Chapter 8

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: A Calormen-sized THANK YOU to my readers who have followed this story, reviewed it, and/or put it on their story alert lists. Your readership and feedback mean so much to me!**

**Chapter 8**

A thick mist boiled out of the ground on the way down the hillside, so that Shen could see only a few feet in front of her as the party wound its way into the valley. Luckily, the hill was not a very steep one, so they made fairly good time to the wide road that approached Tashbaan from the south.

During the trip down the side of the valley, the sun began to rise. The mist began to disperse, and by the time the party had reached the bottom and Shen no longer needed to look down in order to keep from tripping over uneven ground, she found herself lifting her head to gaze through floating wisps of a sheer pinkish-gold veil at the great city.

Tashbaan, the jewel of the Calormene Empire, grew out of a great island in the midst of the broad Daharian River, whose waters had already taken on the sparkling orange tint of reflected morning sunlight. From Shen's distance, the city appeared as a half-spherical mosaic of sand, slate, marble, gold, and all of the shades and textures in between, splashed throughout with tiny blotches of brilliant red, blue, indigo, orange, yellow, and pink. An enormous, spired silver roof pierced the top of the richly textured montage, and by the time the mist had dissipated entirely, the entire dome positively gleamed, with the tops of its spires sparkling a blinding sun-gold in the reflected early-morning glory.

"Shasta! Shen!" Aravis's sharp hiss pierced Shen's awed reverie, and she suddenly realized that she and her brother had slowed almost to a stop. Both sped up at once, but Shasta hadn't lost the gaze of overwhelmed wonder on his face, and, Shen suspected, neither had she. This time, however, she managed to level her gaze at the banks of the river's southern branch, which, she noticed for the first time, comprised one enormous maze of gardens: flower patches, fruit tree groves, and fountain-splashed herb bushes, all entwined with hedges and low stone walls, and dotted with huge marble houses – as well as with smaller, open-walled marble structures Shen couldn't identify. One garden to her right and very close to the road particularly caught her attention; its walls were overgrown with vines of scarlet and white flowers, and its little stone paths wound in curlicues through splashes of every shade from crimson to coral. Even the house was made of the rare red marble Shen had only ever heard about, a mauve-and-brick-swirled material that caused the home it was made of to appear as a stray flame of the rising sun, descended into a ruby-studded paradise.

So intent was Shen on permanently fixing the glorious picture of the red estate into her mind that Aravis once again had to call her out of her daydreaming – this time assisted by a few nudges from Bren. After they passed the red garden, she continued to look around her in fascination at the sheer abundance of white marble, greenery, and multicolored flower mosaics, but none seized her attention the way their crimson-hued cousin had. This turned out to be fortunate, for very soon they found themselves approaching the near end of the south river bridge, a massive construction of gray- and sand-hued stones each ranging from one to ten times the size of Bree. At the end of the bridge, which was already teeming with people waiting to enter the city, Shen could make out an enormous set of many-barred gates.

Just as she began trying to count the bars from her current distance, she heard a noise that made her leap forward and trip into Bree, who was right in front of her. It sounded to her like a much deeper, _much _louder version of the ram's horn at the temple in the village back at home – _no, Arsheesh's cottage_, she had to remind herself.

"Sorry," she muttered to Bree, at the same time Shasta was similarly apologizing to Hwin, whom he in turn had apparently stumbled into.

"Don't mention it," Hwin assured him. "Those are just the horns blowing for the city gates to open."

"Aravis," added Bree suddenly, "drop your shoulders a bit and step heavier. Try to look a bit less like a Tarkheena and imagine you've been kicked and cuffed and called names all your life."

"I suppose you could do it better?" retorted Aravis sourly. "Actually, I rescind that statement – it's plain enough that you can't. How about _you _try to 'step heavier' and act like you've been beaten into drudgery all _your _life? You're prancing more like a war horse than ever!"

"I am not – " Bree began.

"Shut up," his sister ordered tersely, "or those people will hear us talking. Aravis was right; we'll have to act like dumb horses from here on out. If we don't, it won't matter who prances or doesn't step properly."

That shut Bree up, although he did whinny and toss his head as they took their place – the humans' hands clinging tightly to the horses' rope bridles – in line behind the rest of the crowd – made up, Shen noticed, of peasants very much like Shasta and herself, most of whom carried baskets and bags and a few of whom led horses with bundles slung over their backs – which was slowly beginning to wend its way into Tashbaan.

As they passed through the heavy bronze gates, Shen couldn't help but notice how thick and high the walls were. _I could stand on my own shoulders ten times over and still not be able to see the tops of the walls themselves,_ she thought, _let alone any of those spires and towers built into them._ For a moment she shivered, wondering if any of the guards who were surely positioned in the towers on either side of the gateway had somehow noticed that Bree's gait was not that of a pack horse, or that Aravis hadn't gotten all of the stiffness out of her shoulders, or that she and Shasta looked an awful lot like the brother and sister described to them by certain Tarkaans…

Her fear appeared to come true for a horrifying minute when one of the gate-guards only a yard or two away from them grabbed a carrot from the basket of a startled nearby peasant and lobbed it at Shasta's head.

"Hey, horse-boy!" he sneered. "You'll catch it if your master finds you've been using his saddle-horse for pack work."

Shen froze where she stood, her heart was racing so badly that she was afraid it would stop. Fortunately, however, Shasta kept more of his head, if only a very little bit more.

"It's my master's orders, so there!" he retorted, earning a slap from the guard and a "Take that, young filth, to teach you how to talk to freemen." But the guard lost interest in him after that, and Shen's heartbeat slowly subsided.

"Shasta, are you all right?" she whispered once they had passed out of the guards' reach. The blow hadn't looked nearly as bad as some of the ones Arsheesh had dealt him, but then, Shasta couldn't afford to pass out and collapse with Shen bathing his head as he had in the past after enduring one of the fisherman's beatings. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah-hah," he hissed back in an irritated whisper, still holding his hand to his cheek. _Annoying as usual. Good. I still wish I had a cold cloth to give him, though. _ Then she felt Bren's gentle nudge on her shoulder and took her first steps beyond the city walls.

Immediately the road narrowed significantly and began a distinct upward incline, and the crowd slowed considerably. Shen's gaze strayed from Shasta's back to the houses around her, which were really just stone shacks studded with splotches of dirt and the occasional tiny window.

Suddenly Shasta and Bree ground to a halt in front of Shen, who barely managed to stop before slamming into her brother's back. She immediately noticed the people to her left move off the roadside – uttering a great many not-so-nice words along the way – and flatten themselves against the walls of the nearby houses, while others pressed themselves in turn as far back off to the left of the road without stepping on the toes of the people behind them. A bit puzzled, Shen and Bren followed suit, and quickly found themselves several rows back in the sea of humanity that now teemed on the verge of the road.

Shen's curiosity was suddenly fulfilled when, above the din of the protesting peasants around her (which, as far as she could tell, involved several thrown elbows and not a few squashed toes), she heard a clear, nasal voice crying, "Way, way, way! Way for the Tarkaan Kazif!" After a few repetitions of this exclamation, she finally saw (with the help of her craning neck and straining toes) the voice's source: a tall, sallow, man in royal-blue robes navigating the nearby curve in the road directly ahead of three similarly-garbed bodyguards, who – with the help, Shen saw a few moments later, of three more guards directly opposite them – bore upon their shoulders a curious-looking contraption. It consisted of two very long poles supporting an array of brightly-colored tapestries arranged, with the help of smaller supporting poles, into a box-shaped tent. Before it passed, Shen caught a glimpse of an opening in the curtains comprising the front side, which were parted to reveal a shadowy, turbaned shape she realized must be the great lord in question.

As the crowd jostled back into the road – the foremost two of which the guard bringing up the rear smacked with the butt end of his spear for passing too close to the Tarkaan's other guards – Shen craned her neck for one last glance at – _oh, right. That must have been a – what was the word Aravis was using? – litter…Hm. No wonder she was so grouchy when Bree told her to keep her head down and trudge, if she's used to traveling like this. And she can't expect to do it ever again, since she's going to Narnia…Wait, I wonder if they _do _use litters in Narnia…_

The road proved to be a sharply winding one, full of hairpin bends, and every time they rounded one of these, Shen noticed, the houses became a bit bigger and less shabby, and the spaces in front of them expanded and began to include patches of flowers similar to those she'd seen in the gardens she'd seen outside the city, if a bit smaller. _Probably the little bits of color I saw from the valley this morning._ By the time she thought to look down over the city and realized they must be at least halfway from the bottom to the silver-domed building at the top, fountains had begun to appear in the yards of the houses, along with marble statues of warriors, gods, and goddesses. One statue of Zardeenah – so _much prettier than that ancient, half-eaten stone thing we had in the village _– was even crafted out of red marble. Once again, Bren had to nudge her out of her gaze. She quickly shifted it ahead to Shasta and Bree, directly in front of her, and then to Aravis and Hwin, who were leading the group. She sighed in relief for at least the twentieth time since they'd entered Tashbaan. _Well, we haven't been separated yet – no small accomplishment considering the sheer size of this crowd. And our disguises do appear to be holding up nicely – nobody's noticing us. Oh, stop thinking that, Shen – you're not out of this yet._ She glanced quickly to both sides, as well as behind her, to verify that their luck still held, as she already had many times since dawn.

A couple of hours later – hours slowed by the passage of countless litters, each of which caused the crowd to emit a collective groan and stumble off the road – Shen looked up to see the silver dome only some hundreds of yards away from her. It was, she now realized, the center of a sprawling complex of interconnected red-and-white marble buildings surrounded by vast, green, wall-lined yards full of flower beds in every shade of the rainbow, studded with enormous fountains and statues and palm trees. _This must be the palace, _she realized in awe – an awe that was abruptly interrupted by a cry of, "Way! Way! Way! Way for the white barbarian king, the guest of the Tisroc (may he live forever)! Way for the Narnian lords!"

_Narnians?_ It took a hard shove from behind her to jar Shen out of her shock. _Narnians, here in Tashbaan? Wait, did he say a Narnian _king _is here?_ Out of necessity, Shen backed up as far as she could, clumsily maneuvering Bren with her, but at the same time she managed to crane her neck and stretch up on her tiptoes so as to try and find an opening in the approaching litter through which to see this stranger who supposedly resembled her and her brother. This proved an easier task than it might have been an hour or two previously, for the crowd had thinned since then, with various groups of people turning onto other roads – Shen had glimpsed one large one that appeared to end a way off in a highly enlarged version of her village's cramped market square. Shen, Shasta, Aravis, and the horses had gradually drifted from the far left to the center of the remaining crowd, which meant that when the crowd split in the wake of the Narnian party, all of them found themselves near the very front of the half that remained on the left-hand side of the road. Shasta, who with Bree was among the foremost in the crowd, jerked a bit too hard on the horse's bridle in his haste to back up, causing the basket-laden matron immediately behind him to push said basket hard into his left shoulder blade and exclaim, "Now, then! Who are _you _shoving?" Shasta lost both his balance and Bree's bridle at once, and when he found his footing again – to the immense relief of Shen, who in the two seconds he was down had already begun to consider letting Bren go and pushing her way over to her brother – he found himself at the very front of the crowd, staring nervously at the street not two feet in front of him.

_Hold on, little brother. Just stand still and keep your head down till this litter passes. Bree will find you and start scolding you fiercely in no time._

But when the crier and his party passed into view, Shen did a double take, for the Narnian king was not riding in a litter at all. Instead, he was sauntering gaily over the cobblestones at the head of about five or six other men. All of them, Shen noticed with some surprise, were unlike Calormenes – both the ones she'd grown up among and the ones she'd encountered on her journey and in the city – in every possible way. Not only did most of them have very fair skin and hair – the darkest shade she saw (except for the king's, which was nearly Calormene-dark despite his fair skin) was only a very light, sandy brown not unlike her own (and Shasta's, except that his had more red in it) – but their garb was unlike anything Shen had ever seen. Their tunics – all lighter and brighter in color than the deep crimson, royal blue, dark purple, and forest green that predominated in Calormene fashion – had straight sleeves and overlapped their trousers, in contrast to the Calormenes', which were always bell-sleeved and bound at the waist. Again, the trousers had straight legs that slightly overhung the boots, whereas their Calormene counterparts belled at the bottom and were always tucked into the tops of the wearers' boots. Moreover, these men carried straight swords instead of scimitars and wore slight metal half-helmets rather than turbans (the leader's was bound with a circlet of gold, which, Shen assumed, made him the king). And their behavior was perhaps the strangest thing of all. Shen knew very well, as did every Calormene old enough to walk, that when approaching a person of higher rank, one was expected to do three things: bow properly, speak only when spoken to, and assume the most solemn, reverent manner possible. Clearly, nobody had ever said that to these Narnians, who whistled, chattered, and laughed with each other much like she and Shasta had during those rare childhood days when Arsheesh had stayed out longer than usual and the children amused themselves by playing running games or hide-and-seek on the sunlit lawn. _Or stringing up mounting-hammocks in the stable. That sounds like the sort of thing these people would think very amusing…_

Before the first word of another thought could tumble into Shen's mind, the king turned his head to speak to the man to his left and slightly behind him. As he did so, several things happened in rapid succession.

Something seemed to catch the king's eye, and his disbelieving gaze snapped to Shasta; Shen was close enough to hear his sharp gasp. To her abject horror, he immediately grabbed Shasta, propelled him into the middle of the Narnian party, and exclaimed loudly enough for the entire crowd on both sides of the road (Shen was sure) to hear, "Shame on you, my lord! For shame! Queen Susan's eyes are red with weeping because of you. What! Truant for a whole night! Where have you been?"

_Oh, nononononononoNO! This is _not _happening! Shasta, whatever you do, be quiet! If anybody's been here looking for us or Aravis, and this king finds out who we all are, there's no telling what he will do to avoid withholding us and therefore displeasing his hosts – especially hosts of high standing. Don't say a word!_

Whether Shasta's thoughts mirrored those of his sister, or whether he was simply too stunned to speak, he followed Shen's silent advice, although not without first throwing a couple of desperate glances at Shen and Aravis, the latter of whom had surreptitiously grabbed Bree's rope but remained as mute as Shen – and the horses, all of whom had indeed followed her advice and refrained from so much as a whisper of astonishment.

_What about ducking and running, like we talked about last night? Can I dart in between two of those men, grab Shasta, and disappear into the crowd without being chased down? Maybe I could, but the horses probably couldn't…I don't care! Shasta needs help!_

But before Shen's body could snap out of its shock-induced freeze, the king was firmly steering Shasta toward the man he had previously turned to talk to and said, "Take one of his lordship's arms, Peridan, and I'll handle the other. And now, let us return to our lodgings. My sister's mind will be greatly eased when she sees this scapegrace safely back home."

Lord Peridan quickly obliged, and before you could say "Narnia," Shasta was being frog-marched up the road and out of his horrified sister's sight.

Shen still couldn't move. _This is not, not, NOT happening! Where are they taking him? I have no way on earth of knowing…Wait! I could find out, if I could just manage to get out from among all these people…That's it! I'll leave the horses to Aravis; she'll understand. Maybe she'll even wait for us. Then I can sneak away, follow Shasta to wherever these people are staying, and figure out a way to get him out of there –_

But just then, as the crowd began to surge back up onto the road, Shen was violently jarred from behind. She tripped over a crack between stones, fell headlong onto the pavement, hit her head on the trunk of one of the many palm trees now lining the road, and saw no more.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Shen awoke to a cacophony of voices and a couple of hands pawing around her waist and outer thighs. Her arms felt like leaden weights over which she had no control, but in her fright she nevertheless managed to raise them and push them toward the strange hands at the same time her eyes blinked open to see the face of a filthy, bearded young peasant not a foot from her own. She opened her voice to emit a shriek when, seemingly out of nowhere, an enormous golden cat leaped over her shoulder onto the man's head and dug both of its front paws into his face.

The man immediately leaped back, shrieking and clawing at the air in a futile attempt to dislodge the animal, which had already leaped gracefully onto the ground squarely in front of Shen and begun growling ferociously at the stranger, who was now frantically wiping at the numerous bloody scratches on his cheeks.

"What the bloody_ blazes_ – " came a yelp from behind the man, and Shen, who had by now scrambled halfway to her feet, noticed for the first time that he had a companion – quite possibly his brother, given the resemblance between the two – who had apparently just gotten a look at the other's wounds. Gaping wildly at the cat, which was now hissing and growling at the same time, all with every hair on its body standing on end, the two scrambled backwards and tripped over each other several times in their haste to get away. As they left, Shen heard them spitting out the phrases "demon cat" and "possessed," among other even less polite designations.

Shen attempted to stand all the way up, but nearly collapsed due to her sudden dizziness – and the deep, throbbing pain on the left side of her head, which she was just now noticing. Luckily, she seemed to have rolled after her fall down the slight, paved slope from the boundaries of the road to the wall surrounding the nearest house, and was able to support herself against the wall as she gradually lifted herself inch by inch to her full height. Once standing, she blinked the remaining fuzziness out of her vision and cautiously rotated her head at a slight angle. _Ouch. Ouch. Ow. Gods have mercy, my head _hurts_! At least my neck isn't broken, though, just a little stiff. That's something. At least, I don't _think _it is. _She gingerly rotated both shoulders, detecting a throbbing pain in the left-hand one similar to the ache in her head – _I must have hit it when I fell down, but at least it will move without a great deal of pain _– and wiggled her fingers and toes. _Good. Nothing's broken._

A noisy purr emanating from below caused her to look down sharply. _Ouch. Not so fast, idiot._ She'd almost forgotten her furry rescuer, which now sat alertly on its haunches, staring up at her with the biggest, greenest eyes she'd ever seen. They almost looked, Shen reflected, like glowing, black-centered versions of the limes growing on trees in some of the fine yards she'd seen near the top of the city before being knocked unconscious – in fact, there were some hanging straight across the wall only a few feet from her reach right now.

Shen bent down, remembering to go slowly this time, and took a couple of very tentative steps toward the cat, which continued to stare but made no move to bat her hand away or otherwise attack her. _Oh, dear. I _really _hope it isn't one of those mean animals I warned Shasta about. I do _not _need any more injuries right now. _Slowly, she reached out her hand and gave the animal a feather-light stroke across the top of its head.

Rather than bite her, as she had feared, the animal immediately began purring even louder, shutting its eyes and leaning into her touch. Shen stroked it a bit more firmly this time, which appeared to please it even more. _Wait. _"Hello?" she murmured. "Can you talk?" But the cat said nothing, merely opening its eyes slightly before shutting them and continuing to purr. _All right, then…Hm. What did Shasta do that made those cats in the village like him so much? Oh, right. He said they liked to be scratched around the ears – well, most of them, anyway._ Immediately, she scratched lightly around the animal's ears, which seemed to please it just as much, if not more. However, the gesture quickly became absentminded on the girl's part as her chain of thoughts leaped forward – _Shasta! Oh, blast it, blast it, _blast _it! Where on earth are Aravis and the horses gone? _She leaped up, almost collapsed from the wave of dizziness that hit her, and looked around wildly. The morning crowd was almost completely gone; the surge of people that had propelled her headfirst into the tree and unconsciousness had slowed to a mere trickle, so she was able to determine very quickly that Aravis and the horses were nowhere to be seen.

_Where could she have gone? Where _would _she have gone? And why did she leave me behind? Maybe she didn't see me fall down, but thought I'd followed her and the horses till she saw otherwise, which could have been who knows how many miles farther up the road. Maybe she's out looking for me now. But – oh, no. What if her father or her fiancé found her? I have _no _idea where they'd take her then – or what they would have done with the horses. Kept them, probably, I suppose, but that doesn't get me any closer to finding them – or her. And what if the Narnians have captured her, too? In any case, I _still _don't know where they're staying! _Her right hand strayed to her earlobe and began rubbing, only to recoil when she realized she was digging her fingers into a surface already sore from being rubbed for practically the entire morning. Snapping her eyes shut in frustration, she felt for the wall behind her, then slowly sank down to the ground, supporting herself with the steady stone surface as she did so. Briefly smacking both feet against the ground, she leaned her face against her knees and gritted her teeth to keep from screaming in frustration. _Not that I really could right now. My throat's parched._ _Aaugh! Why am I thinking about my throat when I should be out finding my brother? Tash and Zardeenah and Ketzin and all the gods in the heavens, where _is _he? And why, after all my planning, did the one set of circumstances arise that we _didn't _plan for? Just my horrible luck! I planned for us getting separated. I even planned for us getting recognized and caught. I just didn't plan on one of us being recognized as the wrong person!_

As she raised her feet to smack them on the ground again, her right ankle suddenly ran up against something warm and furry. Startled, she quickly opened her eyes and looked up. The golden cat still sat there, purring and blinking at her. _Still here, are you?_ But the only word that left her mouth was "Thanks," as she reached out to pet the animal one last time. "I appreciate you scaring away those god-cursed criminals for me," she whispered. "I shouldn't keep you from whomever you belong to, though. Probably a very rich family. I'm sure they miss you, and I don't need to get into any more trouble today, all right?"

The cat, however, seemed thoroughly unimpressed. It merely blinked once more before pouncing gracefully over her knee and planting itself squarely in her lap, purring loudly all the while.

Shen ground out as loud a groan of frustration as she could manage. "No, cat, I meant _go home_, all right? We'll only both get in trouble if you stay here. We're near the top of the city – rich people live all over this place. I'm sure yours can't be far." _Unless, of course, it jumped from a litter…but still, this is the best part of the city._

Suddenly, Shen leaped to her feet, causing the cat to fall off her lap and emit a loudly protesting _meow_. Despite her dizziness, she shook her head in disbelief, then smacked it lightly with both fists – _ow – _for good measure. _Of course! We're almost at the very top of the city, so the Narnian king _must _be staying near here – he _is_ royalty, after all! All I have to do is go up one street and down another until I find the right place._

"_All" you have to do? You saw this morning how many streets branch off of this one. It could easily take the rest of the day for you to get through half this part of the city, let alone all of it! And just how are you planning to be able to tell the right place from the wrong ones, anyway? Do you expect a sign over the door? Or are you planning on looking through windows until you get caught and beaten?_

_Oh, be quiet! It's the best plan I have!_

_Unless, of course, you do what you _planned _on doing in a situation like this and go to the tombs. Maybe Shasta, Aravis, and the horses have managed to escape – find each other, even – and get there already. _

Shen slowly raised her head to the sky and squinted, gauging the sun's position. _No. They can't possibly. I've been out for an hour – two at the most. Even assuming there won't be as many people on the other side of the city, it's still a few miles' journey. And Aravis said they close the gates at sunset. Even if I can get out of Tashbaan by late afternoon, I'd still have to find the tombs – knowing my luck, that by itself would take long enough, let alone getting to the one farthest from the walls. If I don't find the others there, I'm almost certain to be stranded outside the city overnight. _She shivered. Bree had huffed off the idea of ghouls as a mere superstition, but Shen had been terrified of meeting one since she was a little girl – a fear that had lessened over the years but never completely abated. _Besides, if Aravis hasn't found Shasta yet, he's sure to need my help – and Aravis may need us both, if she got captured as well. I can't leave her behind, either – or the horses. I'm not sure how much aid I can provide any of them – precious little, if I know my own luck – but better that than none at all, especially if the Narnians still have my brother. Tash only knows what they'll do to him. Granted, that king did address him as "my lord," so they'll probably treat him well enough – but only as long as he keeps his mouth shut and they continue to be ignorant of who he really is. And then…_ With extreme difficulty, she forced herself to stop there and inhale a deep breath – _ouch, my ribs! I guess they ended up meeting the pavement, too – _which she blew out very shakily. _Right, then. Go searching it is._

As if sensing her thoughts, the cat rubbed itself against her trembling legs, then abruptly set off at a trot along the road, its tail upraised pertly. Halfway in the middle of turning a corner on the nearest side street, it turned its head and shot her a deliberate stare.

Shen was momentarily disturbed – _that is the most uncanny-looking animal I have _ever _seen _– but quickly shrugged and began to follow it. _I suppose it's as good a place to begin as any. When it turns off the road into its own yard, I can continue searching in whatever pattern I'm establishing here. Besides, it's not as though Zardeenah's sent one of her gray doves to lead me instead. _

Hurrying after the cat, she quickly turned left onto the side street, which it was now meowing at. No sooner had she caught up to the animal than it trotted forward again. _All right, all right. I'm coming. _She shook her head when she realized she's spoken that thought aloud. _I must have hit my head harder than I thought._

They continued in this fashion for an hour or so, the cat leading Shen around countless corners and along streets significantly narrower than the thoroughfare through which she'd entered the city just hours ago. Finally, after leading her through a hairpin turn to the right, the animal stopped dead in the middle of the road and began meowing very loudly.

"What?" Shen queried the animal, which was staring straight at her, then at the ground, in rapid succession as it meowed. _It's a wonder its head doesn't snap clean off. _ "Do you live in one of these houses?" She quickly glanced to both sides of the street. _Hm. These houses aren't quite as nice as the kind I thought it would live in._ She hurried up to the cat. "All right, then. Thank you for taking me this far, but I have to go now and find my brother."

However, the animal immediately shook its head – _wait, did it really _shake _its head? _– and meowed even more loudly, then looked pointedly down at the street again. Shen was finally close enough to spot what had apparently upset it: a few bronze crescent coins scattered on the stones. Curious, she picked them up. "All right, I've got rid of them for you. You can go home now, all right?"

However, the cat meowed one last time, then stared at her pointedly before setting off down the street. As it had previously, it turned and meowed at her loudly. _Fine, then. _She followed it again, one fist clenched tightly around the precious coins.

Not five blocks later, Shen thought she recognized where she was. _Isn't this where a whole bunch of people turned off the road this morning? _A little farther down the street she understood why – _it's the market!_

Even from a few streets away, Shen could hear the cacophony of people shouting and bargaining, chickens squawking, and wagons rumbling in and out of the area. From one block away, she could clearly see the sources of the noises – turbaned merchants under brightly colored awnings, big men in blood-covered aprons hawking carts of terrified chickens, countless red- and purple- and brown-garbed peasants – the ones with the more brightly-colored clothes were clearly servants in wealthy households sent to replenish their masters' goods. Two, Shen noticed, were garbed in robes almost the exact shade of the red marble houses she'd seen earlier outside the city, their golden belts each fastened with a glistening ruby. _Maybe they actually do work in that house…_

"Miss?" It took a few moments – and an accompanying loud _meow _from the cat – for Shen to realize that the voice was addressing her. Turning to meet its owner, she saw a young woman – _she can't be ten years older than I am_ – standing in a tiny, rickety-looking wooden shack set just in front of the street, and directly across from the main market area. _Well, sort of a shack._ Three of its walls appeared perfectly normal, but the fourth only rose halfway to the roof. Through it, she could see two small, layered tables – one laden with little round loaves of bread, the other with wheels of cheese and (on the topmost level) a few stone jars. The woman, garbed in a brown-and-white striped dress and apron, complete with a turban topping her ruddy face, stood in the only empty spot, between the two tables and directly in front of the hole – or window – in the fourth wall.

"Have you come for some bread and cheese? Milk, perhaps?" asked the woman – not unkindly, but briskly, and Shen could see why, as she seemed to have drifted in front of the hut and been there a few moments, with a few other peasants behind her.

"Um – how much for a loaf of bread, please?" Shen managed to rasp out.

"A crescent each," answered the woman. "Two for the cheese, and two more to fill your skin with milk."

"Um…" Shen quickly counted out three coins and handed them to the woman. "I don't have a skin for milk, but…um…I would be very glad for the bread and cheese, thank you." She quickly dipped a curtsey.

The woman quirked an eyebrow, even as she smiled. "Oh, you needn't curtsey to me! If your Narnian masters don't feed you well enough, you'll find you can't say the same of me. And if you happen to have three extra crescents, I do believe I have an extra skin around here somewhere – " Here she abruptly turned and bent nearly out of Shen's sight, rummaging around the lower layers of first one table, then another, before popping back up with a triumphant smile. "Here it is!"

Shen gratefully handed the woman three more coins – all that remained of her fortunate find, in any case – and handed them to her benefactor in exchange for the skin, which the woman had filled from one of the small stone jars.

"Excuse me," she piped up before she could think better of it, "but you don't by any chance know where the Narnian king is lodging, do you?"

The woman regarded her quizzically, even suspiciously. _Did you not _hear_ her assuming you're a servant of theirs, and would technically know the way to their lodgings? _ "I thought you were one of their servants, no?"

"Oh, no – thank you again, though," Shen managed to gasp out before curtseying again from sheer force of habit and dashing off quickly with her food and drink, the cat trotting after her. _Blast it all anyway, Shen! It's a good thing the Narnians didn't get _you _– you would have revealed the entire scheme in a matter of seconds._

_I don't care. Better me in the hands of strangers and Shasta free to meet up with Aravis and continue the journey than the other way around._

_Not really. He wouldn't rest till he'd found you, either._

The cat broke Shen's reverie with a loud _meow_, then trotted off up the same street they'd just journeyed down. Shen took a quick bite of her bread and followed it.

_Strange. I wonder why it came this way at all, if it was only going to go back. Maybe it wants some of my food._ She broke a small chunk off her loaf of bread, then tossed it in the cat's direction. It landed on the animal's nose _– oh, no! Please don't leave me! _"Sorry about that!" – but it merely bent down, tongued up the morsel, and continued on its way.

This time, they journeyed upward and around the sprawling complex at the hill's pinnacle before taking a slightly downward slope to the other side of the city. Shen was just wondering if she should try and feed the cat some milk – _it must be getting pretty thirsty by now _– when it abruptly ducked into an alley. At the exact same time she was turning the corner after it, Shen heard the distinct sound of shattering glass several dozen yards away. Startled, she tripped over the corner of the wall lining the larger road and fell down – instinctively turning to her right so as not to damage her left side any further – and had to scramble back to her feet very quickly in order to catch up.

After walking the entire length of the alley, the cat led Shen around another corner and pulled up right in front of a rather large heap of discarded scraps of cloth and food, itself leaning up against the wall of what looked – as far as Shen could see – to be a fairly expansive yard surrounding a large marble mansion. The animal planted itself firmly in front of the trash heap and meowed loudly.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Shen bent down and stroked the animal's back. "Are you all right? Is this where you live?"

But before the cat could respond in any way, Shen heard – and felt – a colossal _thunk _on the garbage heap right behind her. She jumped up and yelped in sheer shock as she turned to meet the source of the commotion.

Then she yelped again, and louder, when she recognized him.

It was Shasta, who looked none the worse at all for wear, and was, in fact, grinning broadly.


	11. Chapter 10

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know it's been a few days since my last update – I'm sorry to have kept you guys waiting! I've had a very busy week – thank heavens for weekends, when I have more time to work on this story. And it's only Saturday, so look for another chapter to pop up **_**much **_**sooner than this one did.**

**Please continue reviewing – I love your feedback! Thanks so much!**

**Chapter 10**

"_Shasta!"_ Headache, sore ribs, and all, Shen flung her arms around her brother. She quickly pulled back – much to his obvious relief – and examined him more closely. "Are you all right? What on earth _happened _to you?"

Her brother rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Shen, does it _look _like anything happened to me? I've just been eating and sleeping for a while. Oh, and listening to lords and ladies discuss important state secrets. _Technically_ – " he once again crinkled the first two fingers of each hand to form quotations – "I had the best meal I've ever eaten."

Shen almost wished she could punch him, but she didn't have the heart. As it was, she did manage a properly severe eyeroll and a sharp smack to his arm. "Shasta, for – for – for the love of _heaven_! Were you _trying _to condemn me to the streets of this wretched city forever? Did you not think I'd be wandering all over the place looking for you? Did you think at _all_? And if you were going to make me search all over tarnation, why in the name of paradise and every last one of its inhabitants didn't you at _least_ save some of that 'best meal I've ever eaten' – " here she lowered her voice exaggeratedly and wiggled both hands in imitation of his imitation – for me? Aaugh!" And with this last exclamation, she smacked him again and stamped her foot hard on the ground – only to step straight on a rather sharp rock and be saved just in time from falling flat on her face by her bemused, still-grinning brother.

"I say!" rang a decidedly exuberant but still sharp voice from above them. Shen fell even harder against Shasta in her haste to crane her head for its source.

"You may as well give up trying to get out of here _quietly_ if you're going to make all that racket!" continued the voice, cheerfully ignoring its own advice. Shen finally found her feet – plus one aching heel – just in time to see the fair-haired head popping out of one of the mansion's upstairs windows. Her first thought was, _Who on earth does he think he is? _The second was, _What _is _that on his face? Dirt? Maybe a black eye? _

And the third was, _For the love of heaven, but he looks like Shasta, even from this distance. Same fair hair with that reddish light to it – though a little longer – same age, same shape of the face…even his voice sounds similar. I wonder if he has the same blue eyes behind those bruises? No wonder Shasta got mistaken for him – assuming that boy is the one the Narnians were after in the first place. Wait…could he be related to us somehow? He certainly looks like it; from this distance, if it weren't for that lovely bruise around his eye, even I might mistake him for Shasta…_

"Sorry, Your Majesty!" Shasta's exaggeratedly formal yell startled Shen out of her thoughts. He even topped off his exclamation with a deep bow.

Shen thought the other boy might be rolling his eyes, but his bruises made it impossible to tell for certain. "I told you my _father_ is 'Your Majesty,' not me! Anyway, who's that girl? Your servant? No, wait – your aunt?" She could definitely see his broad, teasing grin now.

"Hey!" Shasta shot back.. "She's my sister, Corin, mind your tongue!"

_Corin?_ Corin?

Her mind raced back years upon years – to a tall, purple-robed man on a ship, with a baby's frantic cry emanating from the corner of the cabin in concert with the screams she couldn't hold back; to a raft where she knelt in terror of a walking Lion, with her arms around the same baby; to the tiny doll she'd fashioned for herself with scraps from her own clothes, when the baby grew bigger and learned to walk and talk, a doll she'd named…_Corin? No, not Corin. Not quite. But the name was so very _like _Corin – so close – so very close…_

"Sorry," she vaguely heard Shasta shout back up to the strange – yet so similar – boy. "She usually does respond when you talk to her, you know…"

He received a light smack on the arm for that as his sister tilted her head back up toward the boy, who was now regarding her with a certain semi-concerned interest similar to that of a person who gazes upon a litter of baby kittens and wonders if they are asleep or dead. "Sorry about that." She quickly remembered the boy's social standing – and his father's – and dipped in a respectful curtsey, causing the boy to flash another smile before bowing with even greater exaggeration than her brother had. _Hm. I guess important Narnian people aren't so different from important Calormenes, after all, since we've met one of each. One turns up her nose and ignores us, and one loves making fun of us._

"I'm Corin," the boy continued. "Are you Shen, then?"

"Yes, your – um – lordship?" _So Shasta didn't hold his tongue so well, after all. We are _so _lucky we're not both in chains, or worse._

The boy waved his hand and rolled his eyes. "Only grownups call me that. Narnian and Archenland grownups, anyway. Although you look sort of like a grownup. I bet you're as old as Queen Lucy!"

"Narnian Queen," Shasta muttered to Shen, at the same time the latter called up to Corin, "How old is she?"

"Her sister Queen Susan says ladies don't tell their ages," Corin replied, causing Shen's face to redden – rather deeply, too, she suspected – "but Queen Lucy doesn't care. She's having her eighteenth birthday this summer. So how old are _you_? Or are you too cowardly to tell?"

_Coward? _Coward_?_ _All right, so maybe I wouldn't have left home without a good deal of help, and I was so nervous this morning that if it hadn't been for my brother, I probably would have turned my back on Tashbaan and headed straight back to said home, but you call me coward for refusing to give my _age_?_

"Perhaps I should learn from your Queen Susan's example," she answered instead, "for my brother and I are almost certainly her subjects." _And it's none of your stupid business how old I am in any case. I _really _wish I could tell you that._

"Oh, don't bother," Shasta called up to Corin. "She's just had her eighteenth birthday this past winter." He dodged Shen's swing and added, "But she's no coward at all. She's just as brave as a Tarkaan, really."

The other boy shrugged. "All right, then – " he began, but quickly glanced behind him. "Somebody really _is _coming this time. Don't forget to talk to my father!" And he disappeared from the siblings' sight faster than Shen could blink.

Shen immediately rounded on her brother. "What on _earth – _" she began, only to be cut off by a loud _meow_ from the neighborhood of her feet.

"Hey, there," Shasta greeted the golden cat, immediately lowering himself down and petting it. "Do you live here?"

Shen shook her head. "I'm pretty sure it doesn't," she answered, and as though to prove her point, the cat took advantage of Shasta's upward glance at his sister, slipping out from between his hands and trotting off several yards away before turning and meowing at them as it had been doing with Shen all afternoon.

For once, Shen agreed with the animal wholeheartedly. "Come on," she urged her brother, starting toward the cat at once. "Let's get out of here before whoever that Corin was looking at spots us."

Shasta shrugged, but followed his sister, who in turn almost without thought followed the cat, which had begun briskly weaving down through the streets toward the city gate directly opposite the one they'd entered that morning.

"All right," Shen began, once they were what she deemed a safe distance from the house. "Seeing as how I got pushed, shoved, knocked out, and very nearly robbed trying to find you, I would love to hear an explanation."

Shasta's nonchalant manner abruptly changed as he glanced at her with – _is that actual worry? _"Robbed?"

"No, _nearly _robbed," Shen answered, the annoyance she'd so gladly foregone in the wake of her brother's unexpected safe reappearance finally creeping back into her voice. "The cat stopped them."

Shasta crinkled both eyebrows – his left more than his right, which had been an endearing habit of his when confused since he was two years old – and briefly waved his hand in the cat's direction. "_That _cat stopped them?"

"Yes." Shen regarded her brother's disbelieving look for a few moments before adding, "It growled and hissed more loudly than I've ever seen a cat do – even the village cats when Arsheesh threw stones at them. It clawed the one man across his face with both its paws, and then they both ran away."

After a moment, Shasta tilted his head in apparent acceptance of her story. "And it's been following you around ever since?"

Shen shook her head. "No, the other way around. I've been following it."

The disbelieving look returned. "Shen, aren't _I _supposed to be the one doing all the 'technically' crazy things?"

Shen shot him a brief glare. "It led me straight to you, Shasta. And that Corin boy – whom you have yet to explain to me, by the way."

Shasta shrugged. "Oh, that. He's the prince of Archenland." Undisturbed by his sister's highly-raised eyebrows, he continued, "Apparently he accompanied the Narnian king and queen here, and he ran away last night, so the king thought he'd caught him when he saw me and brought me back to the house. He came back after all the Narnians left – well, except for those guards." Seeing his sister's quizzical look, he continued, "Well, you didn't see them, but I did. They were walking in the hallway downstairs – at least as far as I know. They're probably the ones Corin heard coming."

"All right." Shen gave a barely perceptible nod. "But what happened the rest of the time when you were gone? You had to have been there a couple of hours at least."

"Oh, right." Shasta shrugged again. "I rested and ate, mostly. Their food was _so _good! They had roasted bird and dried plums and glazed greens with nuts and raisins, and this amazing frozen liquid that tastes like fruit and sugar, and to drink – well, I _think_ it was wine, but it was yellow, and it tasted so much better than the wine we had at home – I mean, in the cottage."

Despite herself, Shen couldn't help but wish she'd gotten a taste or two of the banquet her brother was describing. _Frozen sweet liquid? And yellow wine? Well, they _are _important rich people…Oh, come on, Shen. Bread, cheese, and milk aren't so bad – especially before they've spoiled. You could have had _nothing _for lunch, after all._ She shook her head in the hopes of clearing it out a bit; it was beginning to ache again. "So what did the king say to you?"

"Not too much," her brother replied. "He kept on asking me why I ran away at first, and so did the queen, but they stopped after their friend told them I'd been in the sun too long and needed a drink."

"The queen? He has a wife, then?"

"Oh, no." Shasta shook his head. "She's his sister. She's the Queen Susan Corin was talking about. She came here to see about marrying Prince Rabadash, and – "

"Hold on a minute." Shen stopped mid-stride to stare at her brother. "Prince Rabadash? _The _Prince Rabadash?"

"Of course not," Shasta replied with an almost completely straight face. "I'm sure it was one of the two hundred _other _Prince Rabadashes the Tisroc keeps hidden away."

He seemed to expect more than a slight raise of his sister's eyebrows, but, seeing it was all the reply he would get, continued his story. "Anyway, Queen Susan said she didn't want to marry Prince Rabadash, and they all began talking about how he and the Tisroc would never let them leave the country if she said no to them. So she and King Edmund and all of their friends started planning about how they would invite them to a feast on the Narnian ship tonight, except that instead they're going to leave as soon as it gets dark and go back to Narnia."

Shen turned her already-aching head so sharply to look at her brother that she cringed and had to twist it back in its previous direction in order to avoid passing out, or nearly so. "Do they _want _a war so badly? Hashim told me Narnia was a tiny country, even if it still existed, and the Tisroc has thousands and thousands of soldiers!"

Her brother frowned slightly, then looked at her and shrugged. "I don't know; they seemed to think they had a good chance of avoiding it. Their raven friend said – "

"Wait a minute," Shen interrupted him. "Their _raven _friend? You mean a bird?"

Her brother favored this with a look that plainly said, _You're kidding, right?_ "Yeah. I think he was one of their counselors, or advisors, or something." Noticing that his sister had stopped dead in the shade of a palm tree at the side of the road, he tossed his right hand in slight exasperation. "Oh, come _on_, Shen. Bree and Bren did say other animals talk in Narnia. You get used to it after a little while."

Shen blinked a few times, then rubbed both temples with her palms before shrugging, although she did not move from the shade – and neither did the cat. "All right. What were you saying this raven said?"

"Oh, right. Well, he said the Tisroc would have to go through Archoff – no, Arches – "

"You mean Archenland?" Shen volunteered, her tone conveying a hint of annoyance. _Come on, Shasta. Hashim went over this with us more than once._

Her brother didn't seem to pick up on the hint. "Yeah, Archenland. It's right next to Narnia, or something." He ignored Shen's very obvious eyeroll. "So the raven – Sallowpad, yeah, that was his name – said that in order to capture both countries, the Tisroc would have to bring a huge army with him. But I guess the only way he knows how to get to Archenland and Narnia is to cross the desert and go through an oar – no – oasis, and they'd use up all their water by the time they got there, and it wouldn't have enough water to get them all the way to Archenland. Sallowpad said the only way he could move his army there was if he went by this other way that almost nobody knows about. I guess you have to start at the Tombs of the Ancient Kings and turn around till you're looking at Mount – "

"Shasta, hush!" Shen's innate caution finally overrode both her now-pounding headache and her curiosity. "If there's some sort of secret road from here to the northern countries that anybody here could use to attack them, then perhaps you'd best not blurt it out for the entire city to hear!"

Shasta opened his mouth to reply, then apparently thought better of it, choosing instead to shrug and concede the point. "All right, but we should tell Aravis and the horses – "

"Oh, double blast it!" _Why didn't I ask him this first? Has the heat made my mind shut down completely?_ "Aravis! You haven't seen her at all, have you?"

Her brother stared blankly back at her. "No. I thought we were going to meet up with her when we left the Narnians' house."

Shen raised her eyebrows even farther. "No, we got separated – I mean, I got separated from her and the horses. I don't know where they are."

Her brother's eyebrows seemed determined to rise farther than hers at any cost. "How did that happen?"

Shen quickly explained what had happened between the Narnians' arrival and Shasta's escape from their lodgings. Shasta showed a good deal of concern when she related the near-robbery incident that had awakened her, but to her chagrin, his most pronounced reaction after that was a mixture of disbelief and annoyance over her choice to follow the cat around the city – "Come on, Shen, aren't you always saying not to trust strange animals? Shouldn't you _technically_ – " his fingers almost unconsciously bent in that eternally annoying quotation-marks gesture – "have left it alone so it wouldn't bite you and you could – oh, I don't know – ask actual _people_ where the Narnians or the Tarkheena with the three horses were staying?"

Shen bit her tongue to avoid a very nasty response, instead inflating her cheeks and emitting a long, slow breath between her teeth. Finally, when she deemed herself calm enough to avoid verbally punching her brother in the jaw, she spoke as quietly as she could. "As I already _told_ you, Shasta, seeing as how it led me to you, I don't see why you're complaining about it."

Shasta opened his mouth to reply, then shut it – probably less, Shen decided, because of her annoyance than because the cat, now squatting directly beside her, had been staring at the boy unblinkingly since he had begun admonishing his sister.

After an awkward moment, during which the cat, seemingly satisfied that Shasta had decided against insulting it further, finally looked away from him and began rubbing against Shen's legs again, the girl emitted another long sigh. "In any case, we still need to find Aravis and the horses."

"Don't you think she might already be waiting for us at the tombs?" Shasta was quick to offer. "After all, she did say the other day that she's been through Tashbaan before. She'd know her way there well enough."

"And just leave us here – especially since she has the horses?" Shen protested. Her brother opened his mouth, but she waved her hand to cut him off. "Even if the thought crossed her lovely little highborn mind, you know Bree and Bren and Hwin would never let her go through with it."

Shasta reluctantly conceded the point. "All right, but that doesn't mean she isn't there anyway. She seems almost as much a stickler for plans as you."

Shen rolled her eyes, partly in exasperation and partly in hopes that changing the positions of her facial features would help ease the ache that was now assaulting her neck as well as every part of her head and face. "All right, maybe. But I'm sure she's much more likely to be looking for us – unless she's been captured herself."

"By who?" her brother asked, his bewilderment completely genuine.

_Oh, for heaven's _sake_, Shasta! _"Oh, I don't know. Maybe her father or her fiancé?" She tilted her head more emphatically with each successive word.

Her brother's cheeks briefly reddened. "Oh, right." He paused for a moment. "But Hwin and Bree and Bren would have interfered, don't you think?"

Shen was pinching the bridge of her nose assiduously by now. "I don't know, Shasta. Maybe, but they could only go so far without revealing that they're talking horses. And they _can't _do that, no matter what."

"I suppose not," her brother conceded reluctantly, his face falling slightly. "Still – even normal horses do go wild sometimes. They could surely get away with pretending that!"

Shen took a thoughtful breath in, then pursed her lips worriedly. "Maybe. But they might not have succeeded."

"Or they might have," her brother replied sharply.

"Well, in any case – " Shen raised her voice slightly – "we still don't know where Aravis _or _the horses are. I don't know if it's best to try and find her, or try and find the place where the Narnians took you in case she goes back there, or go to the tombs and hope they've all made it there already." She held up a finger as she listed each option.

Shasta considered this for a moment, then admitted, "I don't think I could find the way back to where we got stopped." He glanced at her uncertainly. "Could you?"

Shen slowly shook her head. "No. Not unless the cat wants to lead us back there." She peeked at the cat, which was still seated solidly on the ground. "And if it doesn't…" She turned back to her brother. "…then that option's no good, which technically leaves us with two more." She sighed a bit emphatically at Shasta, whose face betrayed the tiniest hint of a smirk. "Unless we want to wander all over a part of the city we clearly don't belong in looking for somebody who might not be there and risking getting caught, that leaves us with just one."

Her brother favored her with one of his quirky half-grins. "And if we don't want to do that, we 'technically' have one more." His sister's eyeroll made the grin a full one. "We could leave the city, find our way to the harbor, sneak aboard the Narnian ship, and not worry about the desert at all. We could even go to the tombs and pick up Aravis and the horses on the way – "

Shen, blowing out a very exasperated breath, was about to interrupt him, but the cat beat her to it, rubbing suddenly against Shasta's legs and letting out a pointed _meow_. The boy immediately stopped talking and bent down, apparently thinking the animal wanted to be petted, but it deftly avoided him and began trotting down the street again, stopping after several yards to turn and meow loudly at the siblings again.

Shasta shook his head, then turned to address his sister. "That has got to be the strangest cat I have ever seen." He blinked as though suddenly thinking of something, then tilted his head. "Can it talk?"

Shen shook her head. "I asked it if it could, but it just stared at me."

"Hm. Maybe it likes me better." Before Shen could smack him, Shasta trotted over to the cat, then bent down to look it in the eyes. "_Can _you talk, then?"

As Shen walked to catch up to the two, she saw the cat grace her brother with a brief glance and a pointed blink, then turn around, raise its tail, and trot away. Seeing her brother's disbelieving and almost comically put-out expression, she couldn't hold back a fit of nerve-fueled laughter.

Shasta threw her as dirty a look as he was capable of, causing her to laugh even harder.

Finally, another _meow _from the cat brought Shen out of her mirth and Shasta slightly out of his sullenness. "It can talk pretty blasted well for a cat that _can't _talk," he muttered, then, a bit more clearly, "so suppose we follow the fifth option?"

Shen looked at him quizzically. "What's that?"

Her brother gestured toward the cat with a sweep of his hand. "We do it your way and follow the cat."

Shen did a bit of a double-take at that. "I thought you said it was a dumb idea for me to do that in the first place."

Shasta rolled his eyes. "No. I just said it didn't make any sense for you to do it, since you're always warning me about strange animals. Besides, if it really led you to me, then shouldn't it 'technically' be able to help us find the others?"

Shen's eyeroll abruptly turned into thoughtful consideration as her right hand wandered up to rub her earlobe. Finally, she tapped the end of her nose and sighed. "I still think we should go to the tombs first, but maybe it can find a faster way there than I can."

As if in agreement, the cat emitted a soft _meow_, rubbed against Shen's legs, and shot her another look before walking onward – more slowly this time, but still purposefully. Shasta and Shen exchanged a brief but meaningful glance before the former tilted his head slightly, and Shen fell into step ahead of him.

_Lovely. We're putting our fate into the hands of an animal that can't even talk._

_Oh, come on. It did help you find Shasta. Come to think of it, it helped you find those coins, too._

_Well, if it's that smart, it should be able to talk. Shasta's right; the animal is downright uncanny._

_And his other ideas – not to mention yours – were so much better than this, were they?_

_Fine. I'll follow it for now. But if it leads us into any overshadowed or suspicious-looking streets, I will drag Shasta away from it, even if I have to knock him out first._


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Fortunately, Shen's nerve-fueled resolutions proved unnecessary, for the cat led them through a maze of decidedly non-alley-like streets. As the sun approached the horizon, the siblings found themselves following a gradually increasing crowd of people headed to the nearby gate directly opposite from the one through which they had entered Tashbaan. Without the horses, they blended in even more completely than they had that morning, and they soon found themselves out the gate and across the bridge, staring at a plethora of pleasure gardens backlit by a brilliant coral-orange sky.

Despite having seen a similar array of marble and flowers that morning, the siblings couldn't help but stop and stare at the gardens' breathtaking beauty – at least, until they were jarred from behind by a stumbling woman who had apparently tripped over a nearby rock. After exchanging apologies with her, they continued along the main road for a bit, staying along the left-hand edge so as to avoid as many people as possible.

"Which direction did Hwin say we should go again?" Shasta queried his sister.

"Oh, right." Shen thought for a moment. "Shasta, what are you _doing_?" For her brother had already begun to weave his way off the edge of the road toward the crowd at the center.

"You said 'right'," her brother threw over his shoulder, clearly not anticipating her question.

"No, no, I didn't mean – I only meant – Shasta, it's _left_," Shen finally managed to grind out.

"Then why did you say _right_?" a clearly annoyed Shasta, puffing and pushing to get back over to the road's edge, wanted to know.

"I wasn't thinking. Sorry," Shen replied, her face still a bit red.

Shasta rolled his eyes. "You're _sure _it's left?"

Shen returned his gesture. "Yes."

Her brother, however, was not forced to take her word for it, since both siblings, now peering off to the left of the road with their hands up to shade their eyes from the setting sun, found themselves gazing into a broad, shallow valley studded with several hulking, dark structures that from Shasta and Shen's distance looked vaguely like larger versions of Arsheesh's clay drinking glasses turned upside-down. _There we go. So much for all my worries about not being able to find the tombs. Good job, cat._ She looked down to locate the animal and pet it in thanks, but couldn't find it; apparently it was either hidden somewhere in the crowd ahead of them, or long gone. _Oh, well. It got us this far, and if we'd gone alone, it probably would have been dark by the time we reached this place._

She glanced over her shoulder at her brother and jerked her head toward the valley, eliciting a nod from him, and together they left the road and headed for the tombs. _No, no cat ahead of us. I guess it's gone after all. Well, cat, wherever you are, thank you. And thank heavens we're walking downhill; I am dead tired, and I'm not sure my head could take the jarring of another uphill trek._

As the siblings made their way toward the tombs, the grass on the ground gradually became thinner, until, by the time they found themselves in front of the first tomb half an hour later, their feet touched only bare, increasingly sandy ground._ Well, I guess Aravis wasn't kidding when she said this place was right on the edge of the – _"Oh, holy living – !" She jumped backward, tripping over her brother's foot and bringing them both down at once, as the enormous gate-horns blasted to signal the closing of the city.

When both siblings had found their feet again, Shen stared curiously at the doorway of the frontmost tomb, not one hundred yards away from her. Up close, the formidable stone structure loomed even higher above her head than she had initially guessed. As she got closer, she also noticed that its walls, constructed of enormous blocks of stone much like those that formed Tashbaan's bridges, were at least as thick as the entire length of her arm – or so she guessed when she had gotten to within a few yards of the doorway, a low, forbidding arch perhaps a couple of feet higher than her head. Remembering Bree's words about ghouls, she decided not to go any farther. After all, she could really see nothing inside the doorway except seemingly unending pitch-blackness. _Ghouls or no, nothing good can possibly be coming out of there any time soon. And if there are ghouls anywhere in Calormen at all, I'm sure this is where they'd live._ Shivering, she backed up and ran straight into her brother, tripping over him for the second time in an hour. Fortunately, Shasta remained standing this time, and, when he had finished helping her up, walked a few yards closer to the tomb than she had before wrinkling his mouth and eyebrows and gradually stepping back. _Show-off._

"See anything dazzling?" she asked once they had set off again, this time on a wide arc around the left-hand side of the tomb. Shasta merely shot her a slight eyeroll before continuing onward.

Gradually, the siblings looped around each one of the hulking structures – Shen counted twenty-three of them – before stopping at the back of the one farthest from the city. Realizing simultaneously that Aravis and the horses were nowhere to be seen, they exchanged looks of dismay before Shasta sank to the ground, legs crossed, and emitted a long sigh.

Shen dropped down beside her brother. "Well, if she left the city right after we did, maybe she's still walking through the tombs looking for us. We did agree to meet at this one, after all, not at the frontmost one." Getting no response from Shasta, she added, "And if she hasn't left the city yet at all, she probably won't until tomorrow morning." _Lovely job stating the obvious, dear._

Shasta shot her a look that clearly said, _You think?_ All that came out of his mouth, however, was, "I wish we'd have grabbed some of the food out of the saddlebags before we went in there." He gestured vaguely toward the city, which was rapidly becoming merely a massive shadow in the growing dark. "I'm hungry."

Shen could not contain herself at this. "Excuse me? _You _ate a feast with royalty while I wandered the streets fending for myself all day, and _you_ get to be hungry?"

Shasta shrugged defensively. "Sorry! I'm still hungry, though." He regarded her for a moment. "Wait – did you get _anything _to eat, then?"

His sister nodded briefly. "Yeah. I found some coins on the street, so I bought some bread and cheese and milk." _Wait. Where's that skin I had the milk in? I thought I'd tied it around my wrist._ She looked down briefly. _Oh, blast it! I must have dropped it when I hugged Shasta after I found him outside the Narnians' house. Seriously, blast it. We could have used it for water after I'd drunk the milk._ "I don't have any of it left, though."

Shasta shrugged. "It's all right. I suppose we could maybe sneak into one of those orchards, though…" He gestured toward the riverbank gardens, now nearly invisible for lack of daylight, although Shen could see several tiny points of light that must have been torchlit windows.

"Oh, no, you don't," she replied sharply. "If we get caught – "

She could barely see her brother's responding eyeroll. "Oh, come _on_, Shen, you know I was always good at sneaking stuff when Arsheesh had company! I bet I could be there and back with a whole load of fruits by an hour from now."

Shen reached out and grabbed his arm. "I don't care, Shasta, all right? No _way _are you going without me, and I'm so clumsy I'll get us both caught, especially in the dark." Noticing his nearly-mutinous look, she added, "If Aravis still hasn't gotten here tomorrow morning, then we'll see about getting something to eat, all right?" She wasn't above adding, "Besides, if I get some sleep before then, maybe this horrible headache will go away and I'll be able to concentrate." _Oh, come on, Shen, are you _that _weak already? A mere headache is nothing to complain about!_

_I don't care. If it keeps Shasta here and safe, I'll do it again if I have to._

But she did not have to do it again, for Shasta nodded in acquiescence, and the two fell silent. Eventually, after a good deal of yawning and a few uneasy glances at the nearby tomb, they rose to their feet and walked a bit farther away from it before agreeing on a place to sleep.

_Well, at least a place for Shasta to sleep_, Shen irritably corrected herself about half an hour after the siblings had lain down on the now-distinctly sandy ground. Her brother's deep breathing and slight snores clearly indicated his current state of slumber, whereas her own respiratory patterns during the past fifteen minutes had consisted mainly of exasperated sighs. _Blast it all, am I _ever _going to get to sleep?_ She turned over for the dozenth time or so, deepening the slight groove her body had already begun to make in the sand beneath her, and emitted another heavy sigh. _If I don't, so much for our chances of getting any food. I stumble more than enough when I've had a decent amount of sleep. If I've had none altogether, we won't be able to reach the border of anybody's property, let alone the orchard, before I get us noticed. And if we are noticed, and we can't get away…_ She shivered, more from her thought progression than from the rapidly cooling night air. _You get whipped for stealing, back home in the village. I wonder if the punishment is even worse here? Come on, Shen, don't think about that; think about something else…Hmm. _She turned over again, yawning. _Maybe that cat will show up again. Maybe it will help me find food, like it did before._

_Oh, come on, Shen. That's the least logical thought you've had all day, save for the idea of following that animal around Tashbaan in the first place. What on earth were you even thinking? It could have made you lost, or led you straight to a Tarkaan owner who would have enslaved you or handed you over to Anradin and Atish, if they've come here looking for you, or taken you down an alley occupied by thieves and worse than thieves… _In spite of herself, she shuddered again. _Thank Tash – or Zardeenah – or whomever – that it didn't._

Thinking of the gods brought a new topic to Shen's mind. _Maybe it's more than that. Could one of them actually have sent the cat? _Immediately, though, she began to dismiss the idea. _How many times have I prayed to Tash and Zardeenah and every other god or goddess, and never received help of any kind? How many times have I made the sacrifices, and to no purpose whatsoever? Besides, the cat is an animal sacred to no god – everybody knows that! No, if Tash had wished to bless me with a guide of some sort, he would have sent me a black falcon. Zardeenah would have sent a gray dove. Azaroth would have sent a dog, Kelemesh a lynx, Ketzin a monkey…_

As the name of each animal crossed Shen's mind, so did its face and body. Tash's falcon swooped toward her in an alarming display of size, speed, and power; Zardeenah's gray dove gently glided in next to it; Azaroth's dog raced Kelemesh's lynx in tight, eternal circles; Ketzin's monkey leaped about with a mischievous grin; the Lion strode silently across the water, its mouth contorted tightly as it blew the raft toward shore…she could hear its breath, which became a whistle, which became a sharp, wild cry…

Shen leaped up into a sitting position, her heart racing. _What in blazes…Did I dream that horrible screech? I was dreaming about the Lion again, after all – _but a second cry, sounding like several dying sea-birds at once and worse, cut off both her train of thought and her hopes. It also caused Shasta to jerk up off the ground, looking around wildly until his eyes settled on the equally fearful gaze of his sister.

"Shen, what on _earth_ – " he began to exclaim, but was promptly cut off by another cry. This one, Shen noted in terror, not only was louder than the previous two, but also sounded as if it came from the throat of a second creature similar to the first – a creature closer to the siblings than its mate. _Oh, Tash help us both – they can't be more than a few hundred yards away! _Blinking in the light of the nearly-full moon, which had risen as she and her brother had slept, she strained to see anything other than sand and the horizon, which her brain vaguely noted was more oddly jagged than the gently rolling hills and dunes she'd seen on the rest of the journey. Gradually, her eyes focused on about four or five – _did I just say four or _five_? – _dark, fox-like silhouettes grouped together perhaps three or four hundred yards from her. She further drew in her already-suspended breath as she noticed that they seemed to be getting closer. _Oh, gods help us. Jackals! _ She'd never seen them before, but she had once heard Neresh describing to an inn guest how he'd once seen a pair of the creatures reduce two baby lynxes into bloody ruins in a matter of minutes. Instinctively, she scuttled over to where her brother sat in horror as abject as her own.

"Shasta!" she hissed. "Come on! Let's get out of here!"

"And go _where_?" he nearly spat back. "Past the blasted _tombs_, Shen?" _And the doorways?_ he didn't need to add, as another set of piercing wails assaulted their ears. Shen shivered violently, and this time the chill night air had nothing to do with it. _I didn't like the look of them to begin with. What if there _are _ghouls? Even Bren didn't seem too sure there weren't any. Oh, blast it, blast it, _blast _it! Do I want to be eaten by jackals, or taken by ghouls? Oh, Tash help us! _

It took a few seconds to realize she'd said the last out loud, and that while doing so she'd risen to her feet and moved to stand between her brother and the vicious scavengers of the desert. _And you're going to keep them from Shasta how, exactly, idiot?_

_Oh, put a cork in it! I can at least draw them off long enough to let him escape!_

But as she leaned down to frantically convey the instructions to her brother, another noise stopped her in her tracks.

The roar made the ground under Shen and Shasta, as well as the siblings themselves, quiver from bottom to top. At the same time, a shape that dwarfed the jackals' shadows leaped out of nowhere to prowl between the humans and the jackals.

_Oh, we are _not _getting out of this alive. It's a Lion._

However, "Lion!" was the only word she could manage to squeak out, and Shasta couldn't hear her anyway, since at the same time she uttered it, the beast roared once again. The jackals' answering wails, that sole detached functioning corner of her brain noticed, sounded from farther away this time than they'd been previously. _All right, strike that. We'll be eaten by a Lion, not by jackals._

After roaring a few more times, the creature seemed to confirm Shen's worst fears as it slowly turned to face her and her brother. No sooner, however, had she fairly squealed, "Shasta, _run_!" and shoved him back toward the tombs as hard as she could – _maybe one god or another will have mercy and keep the ghouls from him after all _– than she emitted a second squeal out of pure shock. The creature that trotted so rapidly toward them was, if possible, shrinking rapidly. _No, it's definitely shrinking. What on _earth_…_ For the creature was now close enough for her to see the familiar tawny striped coat and green eyes that had guided her through Tashbaan.

Shasta voiced the astonishment she was too shocked to express. "It's the – it's the blasted _cat_!" He whipped his head around to stare at her as if she could tell him exactly how the Lion had shrunk so rapidly, and they gazed at each other in utter bewilderment for the next minute or two, until a soft _meow_ broke the silence and the cat rubbed against Shasta's still-bent lets a couple of times before trotting over to Shen and – after her initial, still-confused flinch – settled itself in her lap.

"What the bloody _blazes _– " Shasta began.

"Language, Shasta," muttered Shen weakly, still stunned.

Shasta didn't miss a beat. " – happened to that Lion? You did see a Lion, didn't you, Shen?"

Shen nodded, her body still functioning in slow motion. Then another thought occurred to her. "You…you _did _hear and see the jackals, didn't you, Shasta?"

Her brother cocked his head questioningly. "Oh, so _that_'s what those horrid creatures were called?"

"Well, of course. You heard Neresh – oh, no, wait, you didn't. I was at the inn alone that day." Shen finally let out the breath she'd seemingly been holding since the first jackal cry, then shook her head in hopes of clearing it a bit. "Never mind. The point is they're gone."

Shasta shook his head, mirroring his sister's actions. "I still don't get…" His voice trailed off.

Shen's fingers were now pinching her earlobe. "Neither do I." After a few very uncomfortable moments, she spoke again. "Do you – do you want to walk around to the other side of the tombs, Shasta?" _And am I going to hate it more if you say yes or no?_

Her brother's eyes grew wider, if possible, and he shook his head. "No – no, let's stay here," he answered, unable to keep the quaver out of his voice.

Still perched comfortably on Shen's lap, the cat purred at Shasta's answer. _Is that even possible?_ She shook her head. _With this cat, is anything _not _possible – except talking?_ "All right," she fairly whispered, stroking the animal's back slowly. "We stay, then."

Neither sibling said another word for the rest of the night. Shasta slowly stopped clawing at the sand with his fingers, Shen eventually quit rubbing and pinching her earlobe, and, after a lengthy silence broken only periodically by the cat's purrs and not at all by lions roaring or jackals howling, both siblings finally laid down on the sand once again, unconsciously huddling closer to each other than they had previously. A surprisingly short period of time after that, Shen's overwrought mind and body finally ceased to function, and she fell into a deep sleep.

The heat of the sun awoke her the next morning. The cat and its comforting warmth had disappeared, but the rays emanating from the sky above her more than made up for it. After she finished stretching her stiff limbs, she slowly rose to her feet and squinted up at the sky to gauge the time of day. _Wait – if I'm looking to the west, why is the sun, there? It can't possibly be after noon – _

"Good afternoon, sleepyhead!" A slightly gravelly but very cheerful voice behind her caused her to whirl around so quickly that she fell back down at once.

"Shasta!" she gasped as her chuckling brother helped her to her feet. "Don't _do_ that!"

Her brother merely grinned and produced an enormous orange from behind his back. "How about this, then?"

Shen stared at him suspiciously. "Shasta, where did you get that?"

"Where do you think?" her brother replied, unable to keep a guilty tone from entering his voice.

Shen closed her eyes – _Don't lose your temper, Shen, you'll bring back your headache – _and forced herself to breathe in and out a couple of times – albeit rather noisily – before speaking. "Shasta, what – did – I – _tell_ – you about raiding those gardens alone?"

Her brother had the good sense to let his face fall a bit, although he did stick his lower lip out ever so slightly. "Come on, Shen, I just didn't want to wake you." The lip protruded a bit farther now, and Shasta peeked up just a bit, his eyes having taken on an almost-innocent roundness. "Besides, I'm back, aren't I? And you love oranges…"

Shen blew out an extremely loud, sputtering breath and raised her hand palm up to stop her brother. "Shasta – don't even _start _thinking that puppy look will fool me. Ah-ah-ah!" she exclaimed warningly as her brother drew breath to reply. "I said, don't start. Thank you for the oranges – " this last came out through gritted teeth – "but if you pull that trick again, I _will _kick you off of Bree's back when we leave here, even if I fall off along with you, and I _will _tell Aravis that you used to wear – "

"All right!" Shasta agreed hastily. "Fine! I won't do it again!"

Shen grabbed the orange out of his hand and glared at him, then plunked back down on the ground – this time settling in the shade of the nearest tomb – and began peeling her orange.

After a few minutes, Shasta sat down several feet from his sister. After several more, and another orange he had provided wordlessly, she finally looked up at him. "I suppose you haven't seen Aravis or the horses?" she asked in a tone that, while slightly gentler than the one she had previously used, clearly indicated that she had not yet forgiven him.

Shasta shook his head quickly. "No," he answered. "I did watch the road for a while, too, but I haven't seen anything."

Shen sighed and settled her chin on her propped-up fists. "Right." _Come on, Aravis, _please _don't make me have to do this! _Very slowly, she went on, "I suppose we'll eventually have to go back and look for them, then."

Shasta had the good sense not to contradict her. "Do you want to go in today or tomorrow?" he queried.

Shen emitted another long sigh. _Double-blast it anyway, all of you! Why can you not just grant me a favor this once and get here now, before I have to make up my mind and almost certainly get us in far more trouble than we can handle?_

"Shen?" She finally blinked up at her brother, who was now looking worried as well as apologetic.

"I don't know, Shasta. What do you think?" _What a wonderfully cowardly thing to say, Shen. Let your little brother deal with the problem, why don't you?_

Shasta shrugged. "I don't know, either. You didn't set a – a time limit or anything with Aravis without me knowing, did you?"

Shen's resulting eyeroll was directed at herself and herself alone. _Seriously. What in heaven's name is the good of planning for a situation if you don't plan for it thoroughly? What a genius you are, Shen._

"No," she eventually managed. "We didn't."

"So…" Shasta's voice trailed off and faded into the following uncomfortable silence.

"All right." Shen finally drew herself up to her full seated height. "How about this: If they still aren't here by tomorrow morning, we go into Tashbaan then and start looking for them – and inquiring among the vendors at the market _without _causing suspicion" (here she raised her eyebrows at her brother for emphasis) "to see if they've heard anything about Aravis. They might actually remember, given her…status." _Will her father – or Ahoshta – have already taken her out of the city by then, if they caught her only yesterday? I thought I heard her saying something the other day about both lords having to be in Tashbaan for a few more days because of one or other of the Tisroc's feasts…And if they haven't caught her, what on earth is keeping her in the city this long? What if she _isn't _in the city? Could she have left for Narnia already? But if so, where are the horses? She wouldn't leave without Hwin at least, and Bree and Bren wouldn't go on without us. Unless… _Suddenly, she felt as though her heart had frozen stone-solid and plummeted to her stomach. _What if Aravis – and the horses – _had _to leave without us? Suppose they were being chased by her father, or Ahoshta, or somebody else? What if Shasta and I do have to make our way north alone?_

"Shen?" Her brother's concerned voice, clearly repeating her name for the third or fourth time, finally broke her chain of troubled thoughts.

Shen abruptly looked straight into his eyes.

"I said I'm fine with it if you are." Shasta's voice held a great deal more resolution than Shen's wildly chaotic mind.

She nodded. "All right. Tomorrow it is, then." _Please, let's not talk about this any more. If I think about it all day, I'll go completely insane._ "What were you saying what's-his-name – the raven – said yesterday about the Tisroc not knowing the right way into Archenland and Narnia?"

Shasta quickly recovered from his obvious surprise at the sudden change of subject. "Oh, that…Well, Sallowpad said the only way the Tisroc could ever invade Narnia with a large army would be to leave from here traveling towards Mount Pire." He tilted his head sharply and frowned, turning his head to scan the horizon. "There…I think that's it over there. See?"

Shen followed his indication and found she didn't even need to squint to see that two particular mountains – _no, wait, is that one mountain split into two peaks at the top? _– rose significantly higher than the others comprising the jagged range on the edge of the horizon to the northwest. She nodded to indicate she'd seen the landmark.

"Right," her brother continued. "That's Mount Pire. Sallowpad said you have to go straight in that direction for about a day till you find a valley full of rocks. He said it's really hard to find, but once you get there you'll find a river that will take you to Archenland." He shrugged slightly. "He didn't really say how to get to Narnia from there, but he did say Narnia's to the north of Archenland, so I guess you just go north from there."

"Hm." Shen tilted her head thoughtfully. "It's a good thing you heard that, actually, Shasta. If…" She slowly rubbed her right earlobe again. "If we have to go on without Aravis, we'll know how to do it." She suddenly straightened her hunching back. "Actually, come to think of it, we never actually discussed how we'd get to Narnia from here, so if Aravis and the horses haven't thought of anything else by the time we see them again, we won't have to waste any further time talking about it." _Unless, of course, Aravis remains true to form and contradicts us. Or not. After all, she agreed easily enough with the plan to go through Tashbaan in disguise._

_Yes, and look where_ that _got all of you._

Shen sighed and yanked her mind back to her brother, who was once again repeating her name.

After several hours of playing games that revolved around a large grid they'd drawn in the sand – one of which involved throwing sticks and stones at the grid and trying to hit squares they'd assigned point values to, another of which required them to hop from square to square in increasingly bizarre patterns – both siblings sat down to eat the rest of the fruit Shasta had snatched from the gardens that morning. As they sat munching silently, the sun slowly descended behind the horizon once again, and this time the sound of the gate-horn startled Shen far less than it had the previous evening.

What did startle both siblings, however, was the sudden _crunch _of somebody approaching them from behind the tombs. The siblings barely had time to stare at each other in shock and reluctantly approach the nearest tomb – nearly to the point of hugging its back wall – before they saw the source, or rather sources, of the noise step into view.

A richly dressed man, clearly in the employ of a Tarkaan family, was cautiously leading Bree, Bren, and Hwin among the gaps between the tombs. All three horses were re-fitted with their own gear instead of the ropes and sacks with which they'd entered Tashbaan.

Shasta immediately made to dash out from their hiding place, but Shen yanked him back. "Shasta, _no_!" she whispered emphatically. "Do you _see _Aravis anywhere? What if she's been captured and talked about us, and whoever has her sent the horses out as bait to get us too?"

Shasta rolled his eyes and had just opened his mouth when a clear, commanding voice with the slightest hint of an unwanted quaver interrupted him from farther behind the horses. "You can go back to your mistress now," its owner addressed the stranger. "Here is money for your pains."

Neither sibling really heard the man's hasty "To hear is to obey," or his hasty flight back toward Tashbaan. Both were too busy staring at Aravis, who had calmly taken all three horses' reins and started without delay toward the far side of the last tomb.


	13. Chapter 12

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's the weekend, and – you guessed it – I'm back! Thanks so much for bearing with me; I really appreciate your patience and your feedback! **

**Chapter 12**

"Aravis!" cried Shen as she and her brother popped out from behind the tomb, at the same time as Shasta hollered, "Boo!"

That earned him three pronounced eyerolls – Shen was still too shocked at seeing the others, and Hwin simply too kind, to bother.

However, the glance Aravis gave Shen was one of pure, unmitigated relief. For a moment she looked as though she wanted to hug the older girl and even took half a step toward her, but instead turned and adjusted Hwin's bridle. Then she turned back to Shen. "Where on earth _were_ you? When I went with Lasaraleen, I looked back for you, but I couldn't see you. Then I had her sent her servants after all of you, and they found Bree, Bren, and Hwin, but they couldn't find you. I had no idea where you'd gone!"

"Lasaraleen?" asked Shen and Shasta at the same time.

"My friend Lasaraleen Tarkheena," explained Aravis.

"Oh, the one you spent your summers with at Lake Mezreel?" _I just went through two of the most terrifying days of my life, and I remembered _that_?_

Aravis seemed just as surprised, but recovered quickly. "Yes, the very one. Right after the Narnians absconded with you, Shasta, her litter came through, and she saw me. She began making a completely exaggerated scene – " her grimace nearly made Shen giggle – "so I climbed into her litter to quiet her down, and I looked for you – " she nodded her head slightly at Shen – "but I couldn't see you, only the horses. She took me to her mansion, and I asked her to send servants to look for you right away, and – " here she paused and colored slightly as if deciding against some embarrassing thing she'd been about to say next – "anyway, they came back without you. I asked her to send them out again, and she agreed, but they still couldn't find you. And Lasaraleen wouldn't help me plan out a way to leave the city without my father finding out about it – he arrived there looking to seek me out a few days ago – until after the party she _had _to go to" (both siblings smiled as she rolled her eyes) "last night. So we planned it all out yesterday." She threw Shen an apologetic glance. "Lasaraleen sent out her servants again twice today, but they still couldn't find you. So she had her groom saddle Bree and Bren and Hwin – "

"A bit tightly, if you ask me," put in Bree with a snort.

" – and told him to take them here," went on Aravis, ignoring him entirely. "So then Lasaraleen and I left her house and took a shortcut through the old palace. It took us longer than we had intended because we first became lost and then very nearly collided with the Tisroc (may he live forever) – "

"You _what_?" exclaimed Shasta.

" – and Prince Rabadash and Ahoshta Tarkaan," continued Aravis.

"You met the Tisroc (may he live forever) and _Prince Rabadash_?" Shen gasped. "And Ahoshta Tarkaan? Isn't that the lord you were supposed to marry?"

"Yes, he is," Aravis answered, "and he was just made Grand Vizier due to the former Grand Vizier's recent death, which is why he was accompanying the Tisroc (may he live forever) and the prince. However, I did not actually meet any of them, thanks be to Tash. Lasaraleen and I managed to hide ourselves before they saw us, although unfortunately they chose the very room in which we were hiding for their council." She paused for a moment, but without interruption; Shen's and Shasta's eyes were wide as Tarkaans' goblets with shock. "The Narnian king and queen were in Tashbaan because Prince Rabadash had been courting the Queen Susan, who fled with her entire company in secret last night."

"We know," Shasta volunteered, producing a quizzical look from Aravis.

"It's a long story," Shen put in, nudging her brother in the arm with her elbow. "Please go on."

"Prince Rabadash was most provoked by the queen's actions," the Tarkheena continued, "and he proposed a scheme of revenge to the Tisroc (may he live forever), who eventually agreed."

"What – " Shasta began in alarm, but subsided after another elbowing from his sister.

"The prince is leaving Tashbaan this very night," went on Aravis, now speaking more rapidly, "with two hundred mounted warriors of the royal house. He plans to lead them across the desert to Archenland and capture Anvard, the castle of its ruler, King Lune. From there he will cross the mountains into Narnia, enter the rulers' castle of Cair Paravel, and seize Queen Susan once she arrives. He will then take her back to Tashbaan and force her to marry him. He believes that once he has her as hostage, along with the castle of Anvard, Narnia will be his for the taking."

Shen's mouth had gradually opened farther than she would have thought possible, so it fell to her brother to exclaim, "He's going to take Archenland _tomorrow_?"

"Yes," answered Aravis, her words uncharacteristically running together by this point, "and if someone doesn't get there first to warn them, he'll have Anvard and Narnia too!"

_If _someone _doesn't get there first? If she just said what I _think_ she just said…_

"Treacherous hounds!" Bree neighed in outrage, stamping his front hooves on the hard sand one after the other. "An attack in time of peace, without defiance sent! But we'll grease his oats for him. We'll be there before he is."

_We _will_?_ Shen finally opened her mouth, but too late, for Aravis was asking a similar question. "Can we?"

Even as she spoke, however, she was launching herself gracefully into Hwin's saddle.

_Wait a minute. Wait just a minute! Didn't we all just prove how dangerous it is merely to journey to the northern countries? And now we're supposed to try and outrun the crown prince and a two-hundred-warrior cavalry?_

"He said he was going to start at once," she vaguely heard Aravis saying.

"That's how humans talk," Bren replied. "But you don't get a company of two hundred horse and horsemen watered and victualed and armed and saddled and started all in a minute." She turned to Shen. "Are you ready?" she asked, her tone significantly less brisk this time.

Shen looked up to find five pairs of eyes returning her gaze. She noticed that Shasta had already climbed atop Bree. _All right, don't ask me then. And don't act so surprised when whatever it is that can go horribly wrong _does _go wrong!_ Deciding against voicing her thoughts, she clumsily mounted Bren, who shifted in order to steady.

"Narnia and the north!" proclaimed Bree, which abruptly jarred Shen into full alertness.

"No!" she exclaimed, inciting alarmed stares from the others. "I mean, no – not _directly _north. We need to travel toward Mount Pire over there – " she pointed accordingly – "northwest, wasn't it, Shasta?"

"Oh, right." Shasta briefly looked chagrined at not having remembered the information he had heard firsthand from the Narnians. "Yeah – northwest."

Aravis shot them both a questioning stare, but Shen cut her brother off. "It's a long story."

"All the better to entertain us and keep you humans awake on the journey," said Bree. "And speaking of journeys: all that about galloping for a day and a night, like in stories, can't really be done. It must be walk and trot – but brisk trots and short walks. And whenever we walk, you three can slip off and walk too. Now – is everybody ready? Off we go. Narnia and the north!"

"Narnia and the north_west_," echoed Bren slyly, causing Shen to break out in a brief fit of nervous giggles. Even Aravis almost smiled. Shasta merely rolled his eyes.

As the horses began the trip at a brisk trot, Shasta and Shen shared their individual stories with Aravis. Shasta, Shen thought, dwelt for a particularly long time on the details of the feast he had enjoyed in the Narnians' lodgings. _He must be hungry again. That, or looking forward to being hungry for the next day or two. I suppose he's entitled, though; he's been growing faster than these horses can gallop lately._ As for herself, she related her own adventures as briefly as possible, barely mentioning the large golden cat. Shasta, she noticed, had said nothing about the incident with the jackals, and she followed his lead. _Aravis may have a bit of a sense of humor, but I doubt it will extend to a continued belief in our sanity if she thinks we're both hallucinating – and that's not even considering what she'd think of my willingness to follow a strange animal all over Tashbaan without any reason at all except that I was at my wits' end. Honestly, if I were in her place, _I_'d think I was crazy._

But Aravis did not seem to be thinking any such thing. She seemed much more interested in calculating the probable length of the Narnians' journey to Cair Paravel, with an eye toward figuring out how quickly they might be warned and whether or not there would be any time for them to come to Anvard's aid. "After all," she told Shen, who took a much greater interest in the subject than Shasta, "I do not know how well-manned the northerners keep their castles, nor how many soldiers Anvard is able to hold. If there are fewer than two hundred of them especially, they will likely require aid greater than any we can provide."

Shen, who knew nothing at all about battles or military strategy except for the stories she'd heard from the horses, conceded that point to Aravis. However, thanks in large to Hashim's basic but excellent tutelage, she did prove a quicker hand than the Tarkheena at calculating how long it would take them to reach Anvard, based on the speed at which the horses had traveled between Arsheesh's cottage and Tashbaan, as well as Sallowpad's guess at the journey's length and Aravis's estimate about the location of the castle. The two girls eventually agreed that it would take roughly two days to reach Anvard, but had more trouble when it came to guessing at the travel time between there and Cair Paravel. After much hemming and hawing, Aravis conceded that her best guess, based on her vague memories of the tiny bit of education she had received regarding the northern countries, was about a day.

"We have to remember, though," Shen pointed out, "that after two days' hard travel across the desert, we may not be able to go quite as fast on the third day."

Bree whinnied in protest at this. "Never underestimate the endurance of a war-bred Narnian horse," he told Shen a bit testily. "And if you humans can ride us half as well as we can carry you – which I must admit you are very capable of – we may well make the journey much more quickly than you expect."

Shen was speechless for a moment at the horse's unexpected compliment, which proved enough time for Aravis to cut in. "We will probably not be the ones making the journey from Anvard to Cair Paravel," she reminded Shen, "for King Lune will most undoubtedly cause one of his own couriers to bear the news instead. I am sure he would rather grant our horses a well-deserved rest and send a fresh mount or two of his own."

Shen nodded, conceding the point. "But suppose the Narnian party has not yet reached Cair Paravel when the news comes?"

Shasta, who with Bree was leading the party, turned to look back at the girls. "Oh, King Edmund and Queen Susan aren't the only rulers of Narnia. They have a brother whom they were calling the High King – I didn't catch his actual name, though – and a sister, Queen Lucy. Perhaps one or both of them will be there."

"The High King won't be," Aravis informed him. "And his name is Peter. According to Prince Rabadash, the king is out fighting giants in the north of his country. But perhaps Queen Lucy will be there."

"Let's hope so," Shen answered, and then, "And let's hope King Lune is in residence at Anvard before that." _Why didn't I think of that before? These calculations contain far too many _if_s and _hope_s. And did she say _giants_? Even if we do get to Narnia alive, what other creatures may we have to face in order to stay that way?_

However, it was an entirely different thought that made its way out of her mouth as she addressed her brother. "Did this King Edmund or Queen Susan explain why Narnia has _four _rulers instead of only one, as we do? Doesn't even its neighbor Archenland has but one king?" _And what other surprises about this country will be sprung on me before I get there – if ever?_

Shasta shrugged. "No, they didn't talk about it. They did say their older brother is the _High_ King, though."

Shen shook her head. "It still doesn't make any sense whatsoever. How can a country have more than ruler at a time? Is it a Narnian custom? And in any case, wouldn't Narnia run the risk of becoming divided and ruined, as Ancient Calormen was when the twin Tisroc brothers fought the great civil war?"

Aravis shot her a brief look of surprise, then shrugged as she thought better of whatever she had been about to say. After a brief pause, she took a slightly different tack. "According to Ahoshta Tarkaan, the previous ruler of Narnia was a lone sorceress, and all four siblings had equal hands in her defeat, so perhaps the Narnian people would have things no other way. And even the Tisroc (may he live forever) spoke of the eldest brother as High King and master of the other three."

"It's still strange," Shen muttered. Aravis and Shasta shrugged, but did not disagree with her.

After that, the discussion quickly subsided. Shen's joint calculations with Aravis had not included time for sleep, and she decided she would count on getting none, or very little, for the next two days. _It's a good thing I slept as late today as I did. I can never do anything right or even think straight when I get insufficient sleep, so I suppose should consider myself very lucky if I fall off of Bren only ten times during this journey, rather than the fifteen I would have had I gotten less sleep last night. Riding is really just as tiring as cleaning Arsheesh's cottage – in fact, it's as bad as scouring his boat._

Soon enough, as the moon began to rise, the horses slowed, and the humans dismounted and walked, as Bree had instructed them to do. Most of the day's heat had evaporated from the sand, and Shen found it pleasantly cool – but not too cool – on the soles of her bare feet. Moreover, the ground's grainy texture muted the noise of the horses' hoofs to a soothing _pwooth-pwook_ instead of the sharper _cleck-cleck-clop _that had become so annoying a few days previously on the streets of Tashbaan. It reminded Shen oddly of leading Arsheesh's donkey among the scattered buildings of the village back home. _No, not home any more. Still – it's missing something. I don't quite know what, though._

However, the blessing of the muted sound proved a double-edged sword, for not only was it monotonous enough after its own fashion, but also, its very softness quickly lulled Shen into a lower level of consciousness of her surroundings and a slower walk. Bren had to nudge her many times between trots throughout the night that followed to make her pick up her speed. Eventually, Bree and Hwin had to do the same for Shasta and Aravis, whose pace also lagged with the waning of the night.

But eventually the night did end, as over behind the travelers and to their right the edge of the sky first lightened to dark gray, then changed to lighter gray, and finally began to glow a brilliant pink-orange, making it look as though some relay of invisible creatures had passed a torch through the veil of the fading night and lit the horizon on fire. Somewhere during the dawn-hour, Shen caught Shasta looking back the way they had come – _of course he would, Shen, you idiot; if you can see the mountains miles and miles in front of you, it would technically stand to reason that you'd be able to see Tashbaan by now as well_ – and her head immediately turned to follow her brother's.

Perched seemingly at the southeastern edge of the earth, Tashbaan looked from Shen's distance like a tiny conglomeration of shadow-dwellings for rats – _or even bugs, really; it's so small I can barely even see the dome at the top of the hill_. _Thank goodness the horses pushed us; we must have traveled two score miles at least._

From behind Shen's shoulder, Bren nudged her gently. The girl whipped her head around to discover herself already several strides behind the others. _Blast it, Shen, if you keep on slowing the others up like this, you'll be the only one to blame if you all get to Archenland too late!_

Panting, she hurried to catch up with her brother and Aravis. _Not to mention that we'll probably need a good deal of extra time to persuade this King Lune to believe us. After all, even if he would listen to Shasta and me – _highly _unlikely, given the state we'll probably be in once we get there – why would the monarch of a northern country trust a Tarkheena? He'll probably think Aravis is a spy, and therefore that Shasta and I are spies too. And if he does, we would have done better just to stay in Calormen in the first place. _She shivered, realizing as she did so that her body was reacting not just to her troubled thoughts, but also to the morning chill of the desert, which had completely lost all of the leftover heat that had made the early night hours so comfortable. _I didn't know it got this cold in Calormen. Wait…are we technically even still _in _Calormen? _

"Shasta," she began, but due to a long night without speech or water, her effort came out as a gravelly "Has-ah…" that her brother apparently had not even heard, for he did not turn his head to meet her gaze. After swallowing a couple of times, Shen tried again, this time with success.

"Huh?" Her brother's head whipped around as his body started in apparent surprise at hearing the sound of a voice after so many hours of silence. _Or maybe he's just cold, like I am._

"Did the raven say exactly where we'd enter Archenland? I mean, is this whole desert still in Calormen?"

Shasta's eyes, already squinting in the growing morning light, narrowed even further as he considered his sister's question for a moment. "Yeah," he replied, then nodded after another moment before emitting a second, surer-sounding "Yeah. I know because I remember him saying the valley at the end of the desert would lead to the river, and once you got to the river you could 'ride the water' to Archenland."

"'Ride the water?'" Shen's answer, which came out more sharply than she had intended, caused Aravis to turn and stare at both siblings. "Did he mean we'd need a boat?"

Shasta's head shifted slightly backward; the question had obviously thrown him for a loop. "He never said anything about that. He just said 'ride the water.' Nobody in the room asked him about a boat. I just figured he meant we'd walk next to the river."

"You 'just figured?'" Again, Shen's reply took on a harsher edge than she'd intended, and Aravis's eyes yawned wide open. "Shasta, it's a bit – a bit _more _than a bit important to pay attention to directions about shortcuts like this, especially if it might not _be _a shortcut after all! It could be that this is a better route than the oasis only if you use a boat! If you'd been listening properly, we might have been better served by traveling through the oasis after all – "

" – and run the risk of being captured by the prince's regiment," Aravis finished for her, in a tone that Shen very reluctantly had to admit was merely practical rather than condescending. She also could not contradict the other girl's observation. _In which case we'd have been best served by not coming at all,_ she barely restrained herself from shooting back. Instead, she merely bit her tongue, jerked her head in irritable assent, and quickly stalked past Aravis toward Mount Pire. Bren raised her eyebrows, but said nothing and _pweck_ed after the girl. Shasta, Aravis, and the other horses quickly followed suit.

The mountain, however, did not seem to want to cooperate, for it steadily refused to grow any larger throughout the endless daylight hours that followed. Neither, Shen noticed to her acute frustration, would Tashbaan oblige their wishes by shrinking any more than it had over the course of the previous night. On top of this, the rising sun had quickly undertaken to heat the air and ground. At first Shen had no objection to this, since she had grown chilly during the night, but the temperature of the air around her soon passed from pleasant to uncomfortably warm. Bren clearly felt the heat as well; as she rode, Shen could feel the sweat beads forming on the horse's back beneath her hands. Then, as she dismounted, she gasped sharply in concert with her brother, who had slid off of Bree at the same time. The sand, which had been pleasantly warm during their most recent walking stint, now felt uncomfortably hot beneath her bare feet – and apparently, judging by his grimace, beneath Shasta's as well.

"All right?" Bren grunted softly into Shen's ear. The girl nodded shortly. _Even if I'm not, I have to go on. I don't have a choice._ She yawned widely, completing a process her mouth had grown increasingly fond of over the past several hours. _And if I don't want to fall asleep and die in the middle of the desert, I definitely don't have a choice. _Glancing ahead of her, she noticed Bree's head bent toward Shasta's; apparently, he had been making similar inquiries as to his rider's health. Shen quickly turned her head away from Bren and grimaced. _And I think _I_'m having a difficult time. The horses have fur coats, and they haven't so much as flinched, let alone gotten mean with the others. Nice going, Shen._

But her throat, which had completely dried out by then despite everybody's occasional sips of water from the skins they kept in their saddlebags, was so parched that all she could manage to grind out was " 'Akes, 'En."

Yawning again, she diligently began trudging along behind her brother and Aravis, whose pace had slowed considerably in the wake of the sun's beating rays.

_Come on, Shen,_ she urged herself as she stumbled over seemingly empty air a few minutes later. _If the horses can keep a pace without stopping in this weather, you'll have to stay with them. Look at the sand on the ground, see? That dip over there right in front of the other one looks like the number eight, and the pattern next to them looks like the first letter of my name and Shasta's…and that ridge there almost forms a perfect "A" for Aravis…hmmm…_

An hour or so later, another gentle nudge from Bren prompted Shen to mount the horse again – _or try to_, she thought ruefully as the resulting fall jarred her further awake and painfully reminded her limbs of the tumble she'd taken in Tashbaan two days before. Grunting in discomfort and disgust, she tried again, this time barely managing to haul herself up onto the horse's back. Fortunately Shasta and Aravis, who had both mounted their horses without any trouble and who had watched both of Shen's attempts, said nothing, merely waiting until Shen was ready before continuing onward into the endless expanse of golden brown.

The next time the horses stopped for a walk, no sooner had Shen's feet touched the ground – causing her already sore legs to ache even worse – than she emitted a stifled yelp of pain; she felt as though she'd just stuck them in the fireplace at Arsheesh's cottage. A few feet away from her, Shasta did the same.

"Sorry, Bree," he ground out, even as he yanked himself back up into the saddle. "Can't walk – burns my feet."

Bree tilted his head in weary acknowledgement. "Course," he replied. "Should have thought of that myself. Stay on – can't be helped."

"Up you go, Shen, it's all right," Bren echoed her brother, and Shen managed a few pats to the horse's neck as she re-mounted. Aravis, she noticed, had shown no such reaction to the sand's heat, and, after taking in the siblings' dilemma, had gracefully re-mounted Hwin without a word. Hwin made a point of inquiring after both Shen and Shasta, but Aravis, looking rather uncomfortable, merely grimaced in what Shen guessed was an attempt at concern before reining her horse around to continue onward. _It must be nice to be able to afford shoes. Or, rather, have a father who is able to afford them._

_Oh, come on, Shen. It's not her fault she has a rich, uppity father. She's not even complaining about our being unable to rest the horses._

_It's still not fair. I bet her legs don't ache like mine do._

A couple of hours later, after Shen had yanked herself up in the saddle to avoid sleep for at least the hundredth time – _or two hundredth, probably _– she jolted upright, startled by her brother's raised voice. Jerking her head up, she saw him pointing toward a looming, lumpy formation rising about ten feet out of the ground. _Can that be a rock? It can't be – it's too brown – oh, who cares, there's a shadow next to it!_

The horses apparently were thinking the same thing, for they fairly ran to the nearby shade before gratefully collapsing against the oddly-shaped mound, which upon closer examination felt to Shen like a cross between a porous rock and a dirt wall. However, she did not ponder the question for long; digging food and water out of the saddlebags proved a much more attractive proposition, although forcing herself – not to mention the others – to refrain from consuming all of their provisions proved a greater challenge than she had anticipated. However, the argument proved a brief one, which was due to dry voices and lack of energy as much as to common sense.

To Bree's everlasting credit, he was the first one back on his feet, and nudged each of the others in turn to keep them from drifting into the sleep their bodies so desperately craved. _Ugh, _Shen forced her brain into enough coherence to mutter to herself as she clumsily mounted Bren. _Does this desert end? Did that raven somehow guess that Shasta wasn't – oh, what was his name? Corin? – and say what he did to lure us to our deaths in this infernal oven?_

Similarly panicked thoughts fueled Shen's mind for the next several hours, keeping her just awake enough to be all too keenly aware of her increasing thirst, irritability, and exhaustion – not to mention the sore limbs and the hammering headache that had returned with a vengeance from two day previously in Tashbaan. _Which is _still _not shrinking at all. Ugh. _ _And Mount Pire will _not _grow at all! _ It took nearly all the strength she had left to keep from snapping petulantly at every single one of the others for their audacity at even suggesting this obviously suicidal trip. Only her dry mouth and her will to ensure her brother's safety kept her silent._ How many sandhills have I seen now that form the letter "S"? There's another one to add to the pile…Yes, "S" for "sapping my strength." Or how about "H" for "hopeless"? Ow!_ Bren, who had just tripped hard enough to jar Shen's entire body, which only worsened the headache, began to turn her head and whinny an apology, but Shen merely patted her neck a few times and murmured, "'S all right, Bren. 'O't 'orry about it." _It's not your fault my head feels like Arsheesh is taking his heaviest plate to it. And it's certainly not your fault I feel like the air itself has been lit on fire._

But the fire gradually subsided as the sun began to set slightly to their left, and after an aborted effort or two, Shasta and Shen finally found themselves able to walk without burning their feet. Shasta, for once, stumbled where his sister did not, and Shen shot forward to grab his elbow and keep him from going down.

"You all right?" she managed to gasp. "'Ant to stop?"

In any other situation Shasta might have brushed his sister's arm away, rolled his eyes, and muttered, "Don't _hover_, Shen," but all he did at that moment was shrug, nod, and grunt, "You?"

Shen managed to tilt her badly hurting head in a faint gesture of assent – _like that fooled him. Oh, well._ She took a quick glance at Aravis, who was wiping her brow and rubbing her head – _I guess I'm not the only one with the headache, after all_ – and exchanged a brief nod with her. Before plodding onward, she slowly twisted her head back toward Tashbaan, which had somehow managed to not only shrink, but nearly disappear. _Not soon enough. May the gods grant I never see it again. _She turned forward again. _Hm. Mount Pire does seem a little larger than it did this morning._

Unfortunately, the lessening light meant that Shen could no longer keep herself awake by watching for shapes in the landscape ahead of her. Bren had to nudge her out of a half-asleep stupor several times, as did Bree for Shasta. Even Aravis stumbled a few times, and after a few such instances Shen noticed she could barely make out the younger girl's silhouette in front of her. She managed to communicate this, although rather hoarsely, and the Tarkheena gladly dropped back to decrease the distance between herself and Shasta, who with Bree trailed directly behind her.

"Shasta," ground out Shen several minutes later, "'ouldn't we be reaching the 'alley soon?"

Shasta nodded wearily. "Yeah," was all the reply he had any energy for, but he did slowly raise his head, signaling a renewed awareness, and Aravis and Shen both followed his lead.

Perhaps an hour later, there was still no sign of the valley, and Shen's head was throbbing worse than ever. _Maybe we _are _going to die in the desert after all. If starvation doesn't do it to me, I'm sure my blasted head will explode anyway. Perhaps Shasta will get through, though. He's so much stronger than I am. Ow –_ she jolted as Bren slowed to a walk again, and Shasta and Aravis dismounted. After a few moments, they raised their heads again to stare around in the dark for any sign of their destination. So did Shen, but she tripped and would have fallen had not Aravis, who had slowed down so much that Bren and Shen had drawn nearly abreast of her, grabbed her and held her up by the elbow.

"'Anks – " Shen began, but before she could add "Aravis," she gasped, sucking a couple breaths' worth of desert air into her already parched throat and lungs. _That's no shape in the sand. That's a definite tilt – isn't it?_

"'Ere it is!" she gasped, flinging her right hand outward to indicate the indentation in the ground and nearly toppling over again in the process.


	14. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Sure enough, the narrow crack in the earth off to the travelers' right quickly widened into the beginnings of a valley, flanked by odd sand-colored rock formations just like the one they had eaten by that afternoon. Fortunately for horses and humans alike, the ground rolled down gently, rather than sharply, in front of them, and without any tripping at all, even from Shen, they soon found themselves traipsing between earthen walls at least three times Shen's height. The surface beneath their feet, Shen discovered several minutes later, was comprised no longer completely of sand, but rather of sand dotted here and there by tufts of hearty grass so dark green they were nearly black. Another dozen minutes or so later, tough little scrub-bushes had begun to sprout up alongside them.

About an hour after they had entered the valley, the grass had spread so that it covered a good deal more of the soil, which was now made up of pebbles rather than sand. This altered the horses' gait to a dichotomy of barely-audible _thwuck_s and much more readily apparent _crunch_es, which normally would barely have registered with Shen's ears but now in her exhausted state – exacerbated by her persistent headache – raised her already-significant annoyance level. In addition, the valley's walls, she gradually noticed, were blocking the cool desert wind and making the air stuffier, causing her, even more than the others, to sweat uncomfortably. By then they had completely used up their water rations, and the only thought Shen could keep her overtired mind focused on was, _I _really_ hope that raven was telling the truth about there being a river in this valley. And we'd better find said river sooner rather than later. _

At length the river did appear, although gradually rather than all at once. It was Hwin whose ears first pricked up, and when they all froze for a moment, they could clearly hear a faint but definite trickle off to their right. By the light of the full moon, they could see a tiny streamlet forming at their feet. Their spirits buoyed, they quickly picked up the pace, which caused Shen to grit her teeth against the head pain produced by the increased speed and exacerbated by the noise of the water. _ Wait. Water. That's the sound I wasn't hearing out in the desert the past two days. No wonder. Hm. _ At first she was convinced the sound was getting no louder, but after they had rounded a few curves in the meandering gorge, she looked down and discovered that the rivulet had widened into a tiny stream. _Not that I should be trusting my hearing at this rate, anyway, as badly as my head is hurting. Ouch! _She nearly exclaimed the last word out loud as she stepped on a particularly sharp-edged stone, but chose instead merely to grimace, rub her foot briefly, and hop to catch up with the others before they could notice.

A few such stumbles later, the horses wearily bent to let the humans mount them – which, Shen reflected a few minutes later as she watched Shasta and Aravis yank themselves out of half-dozes over and over, had perhaps not been the best idea. She briefly considered trying to start a conversation to keep them all from tumbling off the horses, but decided against it when she opened her mouth only to realize that the air hitting the back of her parched throat no longer even registered as dry in comparison. Even her throbbing headache had dulled somewhat and therefore had diminished in its ability to keep her awake. _Come on, Shen. Must stay awake…must…must…_must.

_Must? You've been repeating that in your head all day. I'm sick of it._

_I don't care. If you don't get to Archenland in time, all those people will die…and you may as well be dead when you get to Narnia, if you even do._

_Don't care. Want to rest._

_No. Mustn't rest. Must keep goooooo…_

Shen's overworked body had finally journeyed to the cusp of giving up the fight when she felt herself tumbling downward, then splashing into a very chilly wetness. The startled yelp she instinctively tried to emit came out merely as a gravel-laced "Aaahhhkkk." Both Shasta and Aravis, twisting in their suddenly-stopped horses' saddles, lost their balance and promptly joined her on their hands and knees. Shen vaguely noticed that all of said hands and knees were completely submerged under – _water? Can the stream have really gotten that deep?_

She slowly glanced down at the same time her brain finally registered the watery chill that had encompassed her own limbs. _Amazing. It's not even a stream any more; it's a river!_

_Shen, get up on your feet; you can't fall asleep in the water, or you'll drown. _

Slowly, she lurched and groaned her way upright, beginning even as she did so to scoop up a double handful of water and taste it. It felt remarkably free of dirt in her mouth – a little bit reedy, but not bitter or gritty. Ahead of her, she saw the horses greedily lapping up all they could get. _I suppose we can drink it if they can, _she decided, and without further ado proceeded to quench her nearly bone-deep thirst.

After all three humans had drunk their fill and done all they could to scrub the past two days' accumulated dust and dirt off their limbs, they replenished their water-skins and promptly sat down to eat. Shen was amazed at how much sweeter and more date-like her dried dates tasted, and how much less gritty the bread felt in her mouth, now that she had washed the thirst and grit away – along with much of her headache. _Perhaps we won't die on the journey, after all. Perhaps we'll just die once we get there. Or _I _will, anyway; if this King Lune wants to execute us for being spies, I'm sure I can make a deal to save Shasta at any rate…even Aravis…at least I'll die having eaten remarkably good dates…mmm…_

"Make sure you don't eat all the food, Shasta," she muttered thickly. "We're still not there yet…we'll need to eat again before we get there, probably…"

"Mmm," grunted her brother as he leaned against Bree's back.

"Shasta, don't fall asleep," Aravis urged him in what she'd probably intended to be a sharp tone; it came out sounding almost nonchalant instead. "We have to keep on going."

Shasta grunted again. Shen mustered the energy to nudge him sharply with her foot, which made him start and glare at her briefly before turning to the horse directly behind him.

"Bree," he mumbled, "you want to go yet?"

"Soon," Bree whinnied in reply. "Soon…yes, just a few-hoo-hoo minutes…"

"Five," Bren put in, sounding only mildly less dazed than her brother.

"All right," agreed Shasta, then promptly leaned against Bree again. Shen half-expected Aravis to reprove him for this, but the younger girl only shrugged and straightened out her knees, which had bent up against her chest, before resting her head back against Hwin.

_I suppose I'll have to get them up, then,_ Shen's exhausted mind ruminated. _In a couple minutes, that is…and a few seconds more…hm, Bren's hair is really soft…_

Several hours later, Shen awoke to a chorus of indignant whinnies and neighs, which accompanied Aravis's voice, sounding a bit higher than usual in frustration.

"Oh, buck up and come _on_, Bree! We've already wasted Tash knows how much daylight…ugh! I cannot _believe _I let everybody sleep this long!"

"Actually, technically _I_ let everybody sleep this long," Shen answered, momentarily silencing the startled Tarkheena. "You two – sorry, Hwin, five – fell asleep more than I did." _Amazing. I can string more than ten coherent words together now. Perhaps sleeping wasn't such a bad idea after all – provided it hasn't kept us from reaching Archenland in time. Of course, if that raven meant to say his route required a boat in the first place to stay ahead of Prince Rabadash, it won't matter how long we've been asleep._

She turned to her brother, who was just beginning to stir, and gently shook him awake. "Come on, Shasta, let's go. We've slept for too long, and we need to start again now, all right?"

Shasta merely grumbled and groaned at first, but a few sharp nudges from Bren quickly persuaded him to his feet. Shen made sure their saddlebags were all packed properly before turning to Aravis. "You're ready, then, I take it?" Fortunately, the words came out fairly free of unnecessary sharpness, and Aravis didn't even roll her eyes as she opened her mouth to reply.

"You humans may be ready," Bree cut her off, "but we horses do need a good drink before we put any more miles under our feet – not to mention a few mouthfuls of grass to go with it."

Aravis gave Bree the full fierceness of the eyeroll she'd spared Shen. "Bree, look at the sky. We've wasted more than half the morning already."

"Well, we've already crossed the desert – " Bree began.

"But we're not in Archenland yet," Aravis interrupted him. "And we've got to get there _well_ ahead of Rabadash."

"Oh, we must be miles ahead of him," replied Bree. "After all, this is a shortcut – isn't that what the raven said, Shasta?"

"He didn't say anything about _shorter_," Shasta informed him. "I thought I'd explained that yesterday."

_Oops, he probably did. At least, he tried, but I was so angry at him about the whole "ride-the-water" business that I didn't give him a chance._

"He only said _better_," Shasta was saying, "because you got to a river this way. If the oasis is due north of Tashbaan, then I'm afraid this may be longer."

_Which I should have had figured out shortly after we left yesterday morning. Nice going, Shen._

"Please," Hwin was addressing Bree when Shen managed to snap herself out of her thoughts. "I feel just like you that I _can't _go on. But when horses have humans (with spurs and things) on their backs, aren't they often made to go on when they're feeling like this? And then they find they can. I m-mean – oughtn't we to be able to do more even, now that we're free? It's all for Narnia." She added, almost too low to be heard, "And the north."

Bree tossed his head contemptuously. "I think," he answered, "that I know a little more about campaigns and forced marches and what a horse can stand than you do."

At this, Bren's left foreleg shot out and collided solidly with her brother's. "Oh, shut up, Bree," she nearly hissed. "I know every bit as much as you, and I agree with her. And she knows a right sight more than either of us about how to haul her pace and take care of her human at the same time. We leave in ten minutes. If you're not done gorging your fat stomach with grass by then, good luck catching up with us."

For the first time since she'd met Bree, Shen saw him lower his head, turn around without a word, and very nearly slink away to a nearby patch of grass. After a moment she took a water-skin out of Bren's saddlebag and tossed it to a wide-eyed Shasta. Even Aravis looked shocked.

Bren turned to Hwin. "He's not usually that rude," she told the other mare apologetically, "although that's no excuse at _all_ – "

Hwin quickly shook her head and whickered reassuringly. "You don't need to apologize for him," she answered. "We're all very tired, and I dare say I'll feel just as much like complaining once we go a bit farther." She turned to face Shen. "Are you feeling all right, Shen?"

Shen rubbed the gathering sweat off her face for at least the third time that morning. "Just a bit hot, thank you." _And it's only going to get hotter. Ugh! I can't believe Bree didn't complain about _that _along with his hunger. And Aravis isn't even sweating a drop._

_Oh, put a cork in it, Shen. Heat and sweat will be the least of your worries if you don't get a move on._

Silently, she pulled out another water-skin, took a long drink, and sat waiting for the feeding horses to return. Fortunately, Bren was as good as her word, and Bree had obviously taken her as such, because ten minutes later all three horses were mounted and trotting off north beside the river.

Shortly after their departure, Shen began to notice the odd colors that had begun to stud the valley floor. Patches of flowers, most of them types she had never seen before, peppered the drab green-and-brown surface with splashes of yellow, blue, purple, pink, and even a smattering of light orange here and there. As she slid off of Bren for the first time during the day's journey, getting closer to the flowers, she slowly realized that most of them were softer and more muted in color than their counterparts in Tashbaan had been. _But I like them better that way – I think. Especially that patch of pink ones. Oh, look – it's formed in the shape of a horse or – _But she never got the chance to decide what shape accompanied the horse shape, for her left foot chose that particular moment to trip over a pebble. She managed to break the fall, but the resulting impact jarred her enough to cause a protesting ache to shoot through the back of her head. _Ouch! Oh, no. Oh, _no_. I thought I had gotten rid of you! Go away. Please, please, _please_ go away…_

"Shen!" Shasta, just ahead of her, had turned and was staring at her worriedly. "You all right?"

_Oh, right. I'm standing here like a complete idiot when I should be keeping up with them. Of course he'd wonder if I'm all right. Seriously, but it's hot here._

"Fine!" she lied back, grabbing Bren's halter and striding toward her brother.

Shasta frowned suspiciously for a moment, then shrugged and hurried to catch up with Aravis, who with Hwin was outpacing Bree and Bren rather impressively.

Despite her hours of rest earlier that morning, Shen soon found herself yawning profusely, and consequently trying to distinguish the most ridiculous shapes possible in the patches of flowers along the river in order to stay awake. Her head soon joined the cause as it began to throb in time with Bren's hoofbeats.

_Ouch! If this blasted headache would just subside the tiniest bit! I can deal with pain; gods know Arsheesh saw to that. But I found ways to rest it and not be out in the sun so much after he beat me. And it is _beastly _hot! _She looked up at Shasta – slowly, so as not to further aggravate her headache – but he didn't seem to be sweating nearly as profusely as she was. _If this keeps up, I will drink my water-skin dry at twice the rate I did yesterday. _

Sure enough, not an hour later, Shen had called a brief halt in order to refill her water-skin. Shasta and Aravis, not yet halfway through theirs, nevertheless bent to restock theirs as well.

"Shen, are you sure you're all right?" Aravis asked her almost haltingly as the two girls squatted together next to the river. "You're paler than you were even this morning."

Shen gritted her teeth to avoid a sharply irritable reply. "All right or not, Aravis," she replied, "we still have a journey to finish. I won't be the cause of our going too slowly to warn King Lune."

Aravis rose to her feet, shifted uncomfortably for a moment, nodded, and turned to put her water-skin back into Hwin's saddlebag. Shasta cast a brief but searching look at his sister before following suit.

Not long afterward, horses and humans alike began to hear the flow of a rushing torrent in the distance, which caused Shen's brow to wrinkle – _ouch, Shen, don't _do_ that_ – and ask her brother after a moment, "Shasta, did that raven say anything about a second river?"

Shasta, perched on top of Bree just ahead of his sister, tilted his head for a moment and frowned before replying, "No. He just said we could 'ride by the water.' He didn't say how _much _water."

_Lovely. First no definable distance, then no proper numbering of rivers. This trip keeps on getting better and better._

"If I may," broke in Hwin, immediately causing everyone to stare at the normally silent mare in surprise. "I – I don't remember too much about being in Narnia as a foal, but I do know my mother told me there was a river dividing Calormen from the northern countries. I don't remember the name, but I think it flowed east. This river here is flowing northwest, so perhaps it intersects that other river shortly. That larger river would mark the boundary of Archenland – wouldn't it?"

Bree nodded, then snorted briefly. "Of course! The Winding Arrow – that's what it's called. My mother told me about that river, too – in fact, I'm quite certain I crossed it on my way into captivity as a foal. I can't believe I didn't remember that before!"

"Hence you have us along," Bren replied.

Bree shot her an eyeroll before continuing on toward the unseen river.

Sure enough, not an hour later, the travelers found the valley widening extensively to reveal a winding ribbon of brilliantly green hills – much like the rounded coastal dunes by which they'd met Aravis weeks before, Shen reflected, except that these were covered with grass and more of the beautiful pink flowers that graced the valley. _I have never seen so much grass in my life! _Beyond the hills, like a series of long, somewhat distorted shadows, rose a range of bigger hills – _no, wait, those must be mountains. I've never seen mountains, either._

Her eyes drifted to the source of the rushing noise they'd heard earlier, an enormous, bubbling carpet of blue and silver flowing directly across the newly-revealed countryside, roaring out of the hills on their left to the broader, flatter horizon on their right. _And I have _never _seen a river as scary-looking as that. It looks like it could easily sweep us all to that side of those mountains within seconds._

"Ha!" Bree's snort sounded much more like a mutter to Shen amidst the roaring of the river. "The Winding Arrow! Friends, we are in Archenland!"

"No," Bren corrected her brother, "we are in Archenland _after _we cross the Arrow."

Bree rolled his eyes at her. "Any brilliant suggestions on how to cross it, then, sister?"

_Yes. Hurry up. Gods only know where Rabadash is by now. And my head really hurts._

"How about we find a place to cross it first?" Bren shot back. "You know these great rivers – they always have places where they broaden and don't flow as swiftly as they do normally. I say we go east – to the right, that is. The ground slopes downward that way, and we don't want to push uphill if we can avoid it."

Nobody made any objections to this, so off they trotted to the east. A few miles on, the river broadened as Bren had predicted, and, after an experimental foray into the water, Bree proclaimed it "so simple as to make it easy for any colt to ford it." Shen considered this a bit of an exaggeration, but did not so much as roll her eyes, so acute had her headache become. And when the water splashed up around Bren's body onto her legs, she sighed in relief; it was quite cold, but she was sweating so profusely by then that the chill came as a profound relief.

After they crossed the river, the ground became less level, sloping gently up and down in its slow march to the mountains. Shen eventually gave up looking at flower patches; the agony of her headache was simply too great for her to do anything but shut her eyes whenever possible and grit her teeth when she could not. Fortunately, she managed not to fall off of Bren and thereby exacerbate the pain, but even that took a great deal of extra effort, which only seemed to make her sweat more. As she reached up to wipe her brow for at least the thirtieth time that day, she realized that it was abnormally hot even to the touch of her sun-warmed wrist. _Oh, now I have a fever too. Lovely._ But all she could do was sip a little more water, grit her teeth, and will herself onward. _Shasta _must _get to safety. Tash can have me after that for all I care. Anything to take away this headache and fever. Anything._

The next few hours passed in a haze of heat and pain for Shen. As the humans dismounted their horses yet again, Aravis turned to make an adjustment to Hwin's bridle, then suddenly straightened and furrowed her brow deeply. "Bree," she called, "can you see the disturbance in the ground back there? Doesn't that look like a sandstorm at the edge of the desert, without any wind?"

This, of course, made Shen and Shasta turn to see what she was talking about. Shen had to squint sharply and hold her hand up to shield her eyes in the bright and painful sunlight, but eventually she was able to distinguish the broad golden edge of the desert, although just barely. Sure enough, in one spot she saw a good deal of sand puffing and swirling above the ground along the horizon.

"Oh!" Hwin's startled voice, raised for the first time since Shen had met her, made the girl nearly jump off of Bren's saddle. "Look! There are things flashing in it. Look! They're helmets – and armor. And it's moving – moving this way."

"By Tash!" exclaimed Aravis. "It's the army! It's Rabadash!"

_Oh, Tash save us all. We're pig-roast!_

"Of course it is!" Hwin replied. "Just what I was afraid of. Quick! We must get to Anvard before it." And before any of the others could so much as think the word _Anvard_, let alone say it, she whirled and hurtled toward the mountains like a dish out of the hands of an angry Arsheesh.

_Oh, no,_ was all Shen had time to think before Bree and Bren followed suit, jarring Shen's head into even greater pain – which she hadn't thought possible before then. All she could do as the horses' hooves thudded frighteningly swiftly over the uneven ground was bury her hands into Bren's mane, bend forward so as to lessen the wind's resistance against her aching head and body, and close her eyes as she held on for dear life. She counted the hills they flew over by feel, rather than sight. _One…two…three…_ She lost count around ten, and guessed that they had passed fifteen when she heard her brother shouting, "They're on the river!" Turning her head, even slowly, was pure torture at this point, but she couldn't keep her curiosity in check; sure enough, Rabadash and his two hundred horsemen were crowded in a knot of boiling brown-and-black dots, studded with the flashing silver of their spear points catching the afternoon sunlight, next to the far bank of the Winding Arrow.

"Quick! Quick!" screamed Aravis; Shen, who was just turning her head to face forward again, felt a renewed jolt of pain that almost blocked the Tarkheena's shouts from her ears. "We might as well not have come at all if we don't reach Anvard in time. Gallop, Bree, _gallop_! Bren, come _on_! You're war horses, for Tash's sake!"

_Oh, put a cork in it, Aravis! _Shen would have retorted but for the fever-ridden pain. _Bren's doing everything she can, and so is Bree, I'll warrant – ow!_ For Bren had just put on a renewed burst of speed, forcing the girl to crouch so far forward in the saddle that she was lying very nearly flat against the horse's back.

Up, down, back, forward, left, right – all directions whirled into one enormous, perpetual spin in Shen's overtaxed mind. _Tash help us – oh, _anybody _help us, _was the only thought it could hold as the three horses hurtled heedlessly across the countryside.

Out of the confusing morass engulfing her senses, Shen suddenly perceived a noise that made her blood, heated with fever though it was, run glacially cold – a noise she had heard only once before in her life, but most decidedly, she thought, once too often. Just as it had only weeks before, the bone-shaking roar vibrated across a stretch of earth flying by under the hooves of three terrified horses who had suddenly discovered a last extra burst of lifesaving speed.

Instinctively, Shen whipped her head around. She nearly passed out, but forced her eyes open long enough to confirm her worst fears. Hurtling toward them across the countryside, and gaining with every step, was what had to have been the most enormously shaggy Lion any human in the world had ever seen – and despite the horses' best efforts, it was gaining on them rapidly. Shen could feel Bren's muscles tighten harder and harder with each stride; as strong as she was, she clearly couldn't keep going at that rate for much longer.

Shen's terror was briefly interrupted by a piercing yell from her brother some way ahead of her. Somehow she managed to turn her head back in his direction. She saw Shasta bent over Bree, apparently yelling in his ear, then found herself facing a very steep ridge – _no, wait, that's no hill, it's a wall made out of…grass? _– curving in a gentle circle and interrupted in the middle by an enormous set of wooden gates, which were manned by an elderly man in rust-colored robes and a wispy white beard. _What on _earth…_does he maybe own the Lion? Oh, blast it, the Lion…!_ She turned her protesting head a third time and realized, to her horror, that the beast was within several yards of Hwin, who had lagged behind both of the war horses._ No, no, no! Not good! _Not _good!_

"Bren!" she screamed, using most of what little coherent energy she still possessed. "Back! Back! Go back! Help Hwin!"

Shutting her eyes to avoid passing out, Shen felt rather than saw her mount respond. Bren wheeled around so sharply that she almost threw her clinging rider, then tensed her haunches to spring at the Lion when she suddenly stumbled over some object or other on the ground.

Shen, caught off guard, lurched forward and tumbled over Bren's ducking head, hitting the ground with a dull _thud_. Blindly scrambling to her feet, she clutched her head to avoid falling back down from sheer dizziness, then opened her eyes just as Hwin emitted the most horribly guttural shriek Shen had ever heard. Although she feared for a terrifying moment that her head would split from the sheer awfulness of the noise, the girl still managed to open her eyelids in time to see her brother racing back toward Hwin and Aravis, the latter of whom was reaching across her own body in a frantic attempt to grab her sword. Before her hand could make the journey, though, and before Shen could do so much as issue her own earth-rending shriek, the Lion had leaped through the air, and one of its front paws had landed squarely on Aravis's left shoulder, ripping her tunic – and the skin underneath it – all the way to her right hip.

Then Shen really did scream, in concert with Aravis; somehow she managed to will herself toward the fray, picking up a stone from the ground as she went and heaving it at the Lion as hard as she could. At the same time, Shasta – _no, Shasta, NO! _– pelted past both the fleeing Hwin and the bleeding Aravis and yelled at the Lion, "Go! Go home! Go _home_!"

"Shasta, NO!" Shen managed to shriek, but to her utter shock, the Lion seemed to have paid attention to him; swiping its bloody paw through the grass, it glanced briefly at the chaos it had wrought, then stared into Shen's eyes for two terrifying seconds before whipping around and fleeing into the sunlit hills.

Shasta, who was panting profusely by this time, whirled and exchanged a brief, wild-eyed stare with his sister before both siblings looked back toward Hwin, who with a scarlet-drenched Aravis still clinging to her saddle had nearly reached the strange green wall. _Good – man there – can help Aravis…keep her from that horrible beast…huge scary golden eyes…_ "Shasta," Shen gasped, "you hurt?"

Shasta, still unable to speak, shook his head.

Shen felt the dizziness blend with the heat in the wake of her terror and rise up to overwhelm her at last. "Good for you…go help Aravis…help Bree…go warn the king!"

No sooner had Shen finished her directions than she felt Bren nudge her from behind. This jarring proved to be the last straw for her head, which registered one last burst of pain and dizziness before she pitched forward unconscious onto the green grass of Bree's beloved north.


	15. Chapter 14

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: So sorry about the delay in posting – it has been one humdinger of a week here in RL! I am working hard on the next chapter, which will be a truly pivotal one, and hope to post it in a much more timely fashion than this one.**

**Please don't be shy about giving feedback – I appreciate it more than I can tell you!**

**Chapter 14**

When Shen finally regained consciousness, her head ached significantly less than it had before, largely because she found herself in a small room almost completely devoid of light. Also, her body was reclining on some kind of soft, feathery surface that pleasantly cushioned her exhausted limbs. And her forehead and limbs, though still warm with fever, were covered with some sort of solid, cool moisture that was helping to mitigate some of the burning within. However, her head still felt as though it was spinning at an unbelievable rate, and she had to squint her aching eyes tightly in order to see that the gray-looking orb right above her head was really the concerned face of a very elderly, bearded man.

"Ah, you are awake at last, my daughter," he said, although it took several moments for her brain to register the words, spoken in a surprisingly deep, level voice for his apparent age. "You will need to drink now. Here – " and as he spoke she felt a lean, sinewy arm under her shoulders raising her protesting head several inches off its bed – "take as much of this as you can. It will help settle your fever."

As the spinning inside Shen's head slowly settled to a tolerable pace again, her eyes distinguished the rounded silhouette of a small bowl, filled with liquid that was sloshing toward her face at an alarming rate. She opened her mouth just in time to receive a stream of chilled, sweet-tasting water. As her lips rounded farther apart, seemingly of their own accord, her tongue perceived a few wisps of something – _herbs, maybe?_ – that might have given the water its taste.

Taste or no, though, Shen quickly realized that her parched throat would not allow quite so much water at a time into her body, so she adjusted her mouth accordingly, and the man followed suit with the angle of the bowl, so that the gushing stream of water entered her body in a mere steady trickle. After several more moments, she emitted a groan and began to close her mouth. The stranger at once picked up on her intentions and abruptly tilted the bowl back upright at the same time as his arm eased her head and shoulders back onto their heavenly pillow.

"Good, good," he murmured. "You've nearly finished the bowl – more than I thought you would drink." He leaned closer, so that even Shen's tired eyes could see the vivid blue of his own. "Now, my daughter, do you feel any sharp or deep pains in your body? Your arms or legs, perhaps? Your ribs?"

"Uuuhhhh," Shen groaned, but managed to shift her head ever-so-slightly from side to side. "N-n-no," her mouth finally ground out to match her gesture a few moments later, then, after as deep a breath as she could handle, "Sir…my brother…A-Aravis…horses…hurt…"

The man raised a quieting hand. "Yes, I know. All safe. Your brother is well on his way to King Lune and Anvard. Your friend should heal fully, and my cousins the horses have sustained no hurt beyond the cure of food, water, and rest."

Shen emitted a long sigh of relief and nodded her acknowledgement, which caused a renewed throbbing at the back of her head. The man, seeing her grimace, asked, "What is it, my daughter?"

"Heeeead…hurts…"

"Ah." The man nodded. "Is it a sharp pain in one part of the head?"

Shen slowly shook her head again.

"An ache throughout the entire head, then?" This time, Shen nodded weakly.

"You can see me, though?" Shen nodded again. "Good. Can you move your right arm?"

This took a few moments for Shen to register, and a few more before she was able to lift the limb in question an inch or two off the bed. It was then that she saw it was covered with some sort of wet cloth. _Oh. Good cooling device. Hm…_

"Good. Your left arm?"

They repeated the process with both legs, and the man had Shen wiggle her fingers and toes as well.

"And your stomach? Has it been rejecting food of late?" Shen shook her head again.

"Do you feel any dizziness?" This time she nodded as definitively as possible. "How bad?"

Shen closed her eyes for a moment. "Was…worse…not so bad now," she ground out, the pauses between words stretching as her mind slowly began to shut down again; not, however, before she became aware of the man producing a dry cloth from somewhere around her feet, then wringing it out over another bowl and placing it over her left leg as he pulled off the one that had been covering the limb. The new cloth, like Shen's drinking water, provided a pleasantly cool sensation against her fevered skin.

"Ah." The stranger finally nodded as he replaced the cloth over her right leg, this time a bit briskly and with visible relief. _Huh?_ "I did not think you had any broken bones, but I had to make sure by asking you. The horses said you had not sustained any head blows, either. From the tale that your friend had to tell, it seems as though your body is quite overwhelmed from your journey. With rest, you will probably recover in but a day or two."

That last word was indeed the last Shen heard before merciful oblivion overtook her.

The next few times she awoke, it was even darker in the little room, and she could make out the old man's face above her only by the light of the candle he had apparently placed on a little table at her bedside. The next few times after that, the light had returned, and she could more clearly see the man's blue-eyed, heavily-lined countenance. Each time, he helped her drink more water and asked how she was feeling. Each time, she managed to murmur something along the lines of, "Not worse…not so hot now," before shutting her eyes and plunging into sleep once again. Occasionally, she felt the man replacing the cloths that now covered all four of her limbs as well.

Finally, Shen awoke to feel almost no pain at all in her head for what seemed like the first time in days. Moreover, her formerly feverish limbs had lost much of their excess heat and felt nearly back to normal, although still sore from the journey across the desert. Gingerly twisting her neck, she discovered that she could do so with no dizziness whatsoever. This encouraged her enough to slowly maneuver herself into a sitting position and take in her surroundings, which were now illuminated by the sunlight streaming in through the room's two tiny windows.

She was perched atop a wooden cot topped with some sort of mottled purple-and-silvery-gray plant material, which to her inquiring touch proved exceptionally soft – much softer than her roughly woven clothing – and quick to spring back after she pressed it down. Across the room, which was constructed from sturdy gray stone, sat a similar bed. Next to each bed perched a roughly-hewn wooden table, and on each table a curiously-crafted wooden bowl; her own had apparently been made from a tree whose inner fiber swirled together every shade of brown in existence, and its maker had carved further fanciful swirls and curled leaves into the piece. _It looks more like a piece of Ruhandi's embroidery than a piece of wood, really._ Also adorning her bedside table was an almost pure-white stone pitcher filled with water; a further examination revealed what looked like bits of herbs floating in the liquid. _That must be what I was drinking yesterday. Wait…_was _it yesterday? Or the day before? How long have I been sick? What's been happening? The man said Shasta was "on his way" – did he reach King Lune in time? And how is Aravis? _Her gaze wandered to the cot across from her, and her heart leaped into her throat. _If she's not there recovering, does that mean that she's in another room, or that she's…no, she can't be! The man said she would be fine! _

Wide-eyed with fear, Shen fairly leaped out of her bed, scattering the cloths on her forehead and limbs in the process. Her feet came down at an awkward angle, though, and she quickly fell sprawling across the stone floor, nearly hitting it with her face in the process. _Good one, Shen. _ Using the side of her cot, she dragged herself up and almost to the wooden door that led out of the room –

_Slap!_ Somebody opened the door from the other side, and the edge of it caught Shen clear on the right shoulder, causing her to stumble back against the wall. She regained her balance just in time to turn and come face to face with Aravis, who immediately gasped and froze in her tracks.

"Shen!" the younger girl exclaimed, her astonishment and relief clearly written on a face Shen had never quite seen so openly expressive before. "I'm sorry! Are you all right?"

Shen barely had time to nod before Aravis rattled on. "I had no idea you had awakened – the Hermit said you had a bad fever, and it might take you a while to get better. His full title is the Hermit of the Southern March, and he has a great talent for healing. But Bree, and Hwin, and especially Bren, have been worrying and asking after you since I got up yesterday." _I was worried, too,_ her wide, dark eyes seemed to add, but she did not voice the sentiment.

Shen tried to smile, but her lips, a bit stiff from a day of fever and disuse, formed only a half-grin, half-grimace. "I suppose I should go un-worry them, then," she answered, clearing her throat twice as she spoke to work out the hoarseness that had accumulated there. Then her brow quickly furrowed. "Wait, you said _yesterday_. How long have we been here? And has Shasta returned?" Her voice rose hopefully as she uttered the last sentence.

Aravis shook her head; her own forehead, Shen noticed, was wrinkled in nearly as deep a frown as the older girl's. "No, we haven't seen him since two days ago – that's when we arrived here. As soon as we all got away from the Lion and through the door, the Hermit told Shasta to run and find King Lune. So he left. But last night the Hermit saw Rabadash's army in his pool. On the surface, I mean – he can see things in it that nobody else can." Seeing Shen's startled frown, she hurriedly continued, "I'll show you when we go outside. But the attack failed – the Hermit said the castle was prepared, so he thinks Shasta must have gotten through in time." She hesitated a bit over this last sentence, as if she wanted to say more, but instead fell silent and shrugged slightly. As she did so, she visibly winced and hunched her left shoulder.

Shen felt an almost-tangible surge of guilt when she saw this. _Nice job, Shen. As soon as you see she's alive, and hear that your brother's mission succeeded, you don't bother to ask how she feels after being almost killed by a wild animal._ "Are you – are you all right, Aravis?"

Aravis nodded, rolling her shoulder slowly. "The Hermit said the Lion did not dig its claws very deeply into my skin. He put a salve on the scratches, and they bother me far less today than they did at first, or even yesterday."

Shen cocked her head ever so slightly. "I still probably shouldn't make you stand any more than you have to, though." She gestured toward the door. "Shall we go seat ourselves by the horses, then?" Shall _we go _seat _ourselves? Where did that come from? Perhaps I've been picking up on more from Aravis than I think…_ "Or – will this Hermit allow that?"

"Oh – yes; you need not worry about that," Aravis reassured her. "He is very kind." _Come on, Shen, you needed her to tell you that? The man probably saved your life._

Fortunately, Shen managed to retain her balance as she and the Tarkheena made their way out of the hut into a wide, circular yard enclosed by a round, earthen, grass-covered wall virtually indistinguishable from the turf within it. Across the yard, Shen could see a similarly circular enclosure, this one created by a wooden fence and bordered by a tiny shed. Inside the pen, half a dozen – _goats? They're smaller than the ones back in the village, though. Hairier, too _– alternately munched on grass and held bleating matches with each other.

Gradually, Shen shifted her eyes to the right, and they widened slightly as they took in the most perfectly spherical, smooth, silver pool she had ever seen, sunk about a foot beneath the grassy surface. Wandering along the right-hand edge were the three horses, whose heads perked up and sprouted identical expressions of utter relief as the two girls approached them.

For the first time since Shen had met her, Bren took a half-step toward the girls, then hesitated. Hwin gave her a sidelong glance of encouragement before the larger mare finally trotted slowly up to Shen.

"A-are – how are you feeling, Shen?" she asked.

"Much better, thank you, Bren," the girl answered, smiling a bit quizzically. "How about you? Are you hurt? I know you tripped when the Lion was chasing us – "

Bren quickly shook her head, neighing away Shen's concern. "Just clumsiness. And _I _wasn't hobbled over and half-blind from illness! Not to mention you were the one who noticed they needed help in the first place. A right sight more than what I noticed about you – what I would have noticed with one look back or one question. Of course, maybe I _wouldn't _have noticed, seeing as I was too absorbed in my own stupid thirst to begin with."

Shen bit her lip in half-bemusement, half-exasperation, making a noise somewhere between a murmur of dissent and the beginning of a reply. Finally, just as the horse hung her head even further and opened her mouth again, the girl felt her lips catch up with her mind enough to form her answer. "Bren, we were all terrified half to death. And before that, we were all exhausted and thirsty – not to mention hungry. Even when Hwin – oh, right, and Shasta and Aravis – asked me if I was all right, I said yes, which technically means you had no reason to think to ask me again. And even if I had said no, you were going as fast as you reasonably could – "

Bren's answering snort seemed to burst out of her of its own accord. "'Reasonably!' That Lion showed us _reasonably_! If I had noticed how sick you were, I'd have got to 'reasonably' a right lot sooner! And it took everybody else to ask how you were, and I still didn't notice – "

"Not everybody," muttered Bree, almost inaudibly.

"Well, _you _weren't bearing her – " Bren retorted, at the same time Aravis cut in, "Bree, come on, we've been over this before – "

"Oh, for heaven's _sake_!" Shen finally burst out, a bit overwhelmed by the sudden cacophony. "In any case, I'm all right now, and so is Aravis, and so are all of you."

"And I am glad to hear it, my daughter," spoke a deep, rumbling voice behind her. Shen started in surprise and turned to discover, stepping between herself and the horses, a tall, reed-thin elderly man with a waist-length white beard to match his full head of hair. His robes – the inner a finely-woven cornflower blue, the outer a rougher deep gray – nicely complemented his alert gray-blue eyes, which Shen recognized at once. She emitted a slight gasp and dropped an immediate curtsey.

"Oh, you need not bow to me, daughter," the man told Shen, and when she finally raised her head, the first thing she noticed was the twinkling in his eyes. "I trust your fever has subsided?"

It took a few moments for Shen to squeak out a "Yes, sir, thank you very much," before she marshaled her thoughts and continued, "I am indebted to you for your care for me – and my friends. I hope I have not burdened you unduly, sir."

The man smiled, his right eye crinkling in a near-wink. "Not at all, my daughter. Your friends have informed me of your errand, and therefore I might as well say I am indebted to all of you – and your brother, of course."

Shen's jaw tightened suddenly at this. "Sir, Aravis said that you told her my brother got through to King Lune. Do you know for sure if he is at the castle?"

The man bowed his head so that his eyes were very nearly level with hers. "I believe he did get through, my daughter, for Rabadash attacked Anvard last night and failed miserably. Although I did not see your brother as I saw Rabadash and the castle's defenders, I have no reason to believe King Lune would not have shown him the utmost hospitality and welcomed him into Anvard – ah!"

He suddenly and sharply turned his head to gaze at the nearby surface of the silvery pool. Startled, Shen shifted her whole body to mirror his actions, then gasped.

The pool's surface was so pristinely level that Shen would have expected it to reflect the sky and the top of the enormous tree that abutted the water to the left. Instead, however, all she could see was a series of blurry shadows – one particularly enormous shape that seemingly grew out of the water's edge, and several smaller ones that wheeled in broad arcs around it. _Wait a minute. This is _not _right. Maybe I haven't gotten better – oh, wait! Didn't Aravis say the Hermit can see things happening in this pool? He must be seeing something right now – oh, what if he can see Shasta?_

She whipped her head around once again to meet the old man's eyes, but he smiled slightly and nodded at her. "Do not be alarmed, my daughter. This pool sometimes changes to reflect events in the world outside these walls."

"Yes, sir," Shen replied. "Aravis told me. Can you – can you ask it to show you my brother, sir?"

The man gravely but kindly shook his head. "No, my daughter. I cannot direct it to center on any one person. However, it looks like – ah, yes – " here he briefly glanced down at the pool – "there are one – two – three eagles wheeling in the gap by Stormness Head." Shen looked down in tandem with him, but saw only twisted versions of the shapes she had seen before, now whirling faster like suds in a pot of boiling liquid. _How on earth can he see an eagle in the middle of all of this? And what is Stormness Head?_

The Hermit appeared to have anticipated her question. "The mountain at the border between Archenland and Narnia," he explained when he saw the confused look on Shen's face. "One is the oldest of all eagles. He would not be out unless battle was at hand."

"But, sir," Shen asked, "I thought you said the Archenlanders already defeated Rabadash last night?" _Yes, I know I'm being horribly impertinent. Yes, it's worth it – if only I can find out for certain where my brother is!_

But the Hermit did not seem at all offended. "No, my daughter, not quite. Rabadash merely failed to penetrate even the outer defenses of the castle. The defenders took many shots at his troops, but there was no full-scale battle. Rabadash merely retreated to wait out the night." He nodded to a spot slightly behind Shen and to her left, and out of the corner of her eye she could see Aravis standing there, along with the horses. _Oh, no. They're going to fight again? What if King Lune can't keep them out? Didn't Aravis say before we got here that he'd send a courier to Narnia? What if he didn't have time to do it? What if the Narnians don't want to help, or don't get there in time?_

The man glanced down at the pool again. "Yes, I see him wheel to and fro, peering down sometimes at Anvard and sometimes to the east, behind Stormness. Ah – I see now what Rabadash and his men have been so busy at all day." Seeing Shen's continued confusion, he smiled slightly. "I have lived by the shore of this pool for many years, my daughter, and only gradually have I become able to distinguish the shapes it shows me clearly. It is normal for them to appear as mere shifting shadows." _So my head isn't irreversibly damaged, after all. Good._

"They have felled and lopped a great tree," continued the Hermit, "and they are now coming out of the woods carrying it as a ram. They have learned something from the failure of last night's assault. He would have been wiser if he had set his men to making ladders, but it takes too long and he is impatient. Fool that he is! He ought to have ridden back to Tashbaan as soon as the first attack failed, for his whole plan depended on speed and surprise. Now they are bringing the ram into position. King Lune's men are shooting hard from the walls. Five Calormenes have fallen, but not many will. They have their shields above their heads. Rabadash is giving his orders now. With him are his most trusted lords, fierce Tarkaans from the eastern provinces. I can see their faces. There is Corradin of Castle Tormunt, and Azrooh, and Chlamash, and Ilgamuth of the twisted lip – " here Aravis started noticeably – "and a tall Tarkaan with a crimson beard – "

"By the Mane, my old master Anradin!" exclaimed Bree.

"What? The Anradin we ran away from?" Shen, now squinting as hard as she could at the pool despite the fact that she could still see nothing but whirling shapes, couldn't contain herself.

"Sh!" hissed Aravis, at the same time the Hermit added, "And at the head of Anradin's army – yes, I thought so – is his brother Atish."

_No _way_._ Shen didn't say the words, but her eyes, now so wide they could nearly have accommodated two each of Bree's, spoke for her. _I _hate _thinking of battles and bleeding and wounding and killing, but I do wish Atish had been one of those five fallen Calormenes. I don't think I would have hated that at all._ Just then, she felt Bren gently nudge her shoulder. _I know you probably think so, too, Bren. Really, you knew him much better than I did._ A minor surge of guilt overtook her then – _He didn't actually _do _anything to you, you know._

_Oh, come on. He touched me under the table in the cottage. His eyes told me the rest. And Bree as much as confirmed it when he said Shasta and I would be better off dead than with him._

"The ram is pounding, stroke after stroke," the Hermit was saying, "and no gate can stand it forever. But wait!" His brow wrinkled so deeply that his eyes almost disappeared completely; Shen, still determined to force herself to distinguish whatever pictures the man was seeing, mirrored his actions. "Something up by Stormness has scared the birds. They are scattering like grains from a toppled barrel…Ah! The whole eastern ridge is black with horsemen. I cannot see the standard; the wind is blowing it straight back."

Here Shen came the closest she ever had to fainting without actually doing so. _Can't see the standard? Does he mean the Tisroc may have sent more soldiers behind Rabadash? Those could be _Calormenes_? Then the Archenlanders will be defeated for sure…Shasta!_ She bent so far over the pool in her futile attempts to see the flag the Hermit was describing, she tripped and would have fallen in headfirst but for Aravis's restraining arm. No sooner had she turned her head ever so slightly to throw the younger girl a grateful glance than the Hermit cried out again, causing both girls' heads to whip around toward him.

"Narnia, Narnia!" he exclaimed. "It's the red Lion!"

_What? _Narnia_? King Lune must have sent a courier through, after all! Hold on, little brother – a little bit longer, and you're out of this. I'll find a way to get to you somehow after that. Just stay inside the castle and don't do anything stupid. _

"All his cats are dashing out to form a guard before his front line – " the Hermit was saying.

"Cats?" interjected Aravis, clearly puzzled.

"Great cats – leopards, tigers, and such," the Hermit explained quickly. "They are rushing to attack the horses of the dismounted Calormenes. An excellent decision! The horses are mad with terror – many of them are dashing off away from the battlefield already – but, oh! Rabadash has re-formed his line and has more than half his remaining men charging out to meet the Narnians. They're charging at full speed, and now so is Edmund's line – "

_Edmund? King Edmund? I thought Aravis and I figured out that he and his sister wouldn't be back in Narnia yet by the time we reached Archenland to warn King Lune – and probably wouldn't be back, either, in the time it would take to get from there to Cair Paravel – oh, stop it, Shen. _Probably _doesn't mean _certainly_, and you know it. Besides, in this case it's an awfully good thing your calculations were wrong – ouch, my stomach _hurts_! If this stupid, horrid, _blasted _battle would just end now, my nerves would _not _be acting like this…_

"Lion alive!" The Hermit's very loud exclamation abruptly ended Shen's train of thought, but caused her heart, already beating almost uncontrollably, to leap very nearly out of her throat. "One of those boys is Prince Corin. And the other looks like his own twin – it's your little Shasta!"

"_What_?" cried both girls at once, joined by astonished neighs from all three horses. This time, Shen stumbled so badly that she did trip, and her hands, thrown out just in time to prevent her from tumbling headlong into the pool, barely missed the water. _Shasta, what on earth – how the _blazes _did you end up with the Narnians rather than in Anvard? What have you been _doing_?_

The Hermit could not answer that question, but as Shen clumsily made her way back to her feet, he did provide an account of the boy's current activities. "Corin is fighting like a man. He's killed a Calormene – oh, Shasta, you poor, brave little fool! He knows nothing about combat – he has no idea how to use a shield, or he would not be exposing his entire left side. And he's waving his sword around as if he's chasing a fly with a stick – nearly cut his pony's head off, and still may if he doesn't watch himself…Oh! His sword's been knocked out of his hand. Duck, boy! – oh, no, off his pony he goes!"

The scream that had been traveling seemingly out of the pit of Shen's stomach exploded out of her mouth, trading places with the heart that had till now been in her throat. _"Shasta! NO!"_ Almost of its own accord, her head whipped around to stare pleadingly at the Hermit. "Where is he? Can you see him now? What is he doing?"

"I cannot tell." The Hermit, after peering intently for a few moments, shook his head. "He must be still on the ground, for the soldiers are spreading out; I can see anyone still on his feet. The Calormene horses are completely scattered…"

The Hermit continued to speak, but Shen could no longer hear the words coming out of his mouth. Almost without feeling it, she collapsed to her knees by the poolside, rocking unconsciously back and forth. She neither heard Aravis's exclamation of concern nor felt Bren's gentle nudges on her shoulders as the Hermit breathlessly narrated the remainder of the battle.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Over the next half-hour, Shen heard vague snatches of the Hermit's battle narration. "King," "Lune," "Edmund," and "Rabadash," as far as she could tell, figured prominently in the tale, with "down" and "won" running a close second. She thought the Hermit said at one point that Rabadash looked dead, although that news was immediately followed by "not sure." However, the only word that could snap her out of her haze came much later. She heard the Hermit utter her brother's name excitedly, and just as she perked up, almost unable to believe she had heard it, she felt a clearly concerned Aravis shaking her left shoulder in concert with Bren nudging the opposite one. "Shen. Shen. _Shenari!_ It's all right. He sees Shasta. Shasta's fine."

Shen's overwhelmed limbs got so tangled in her attempt to scramble to her feet that it took Aravis and Bren together to raise her up, just as the Hermit was saying, "Ah! They really _are _as alike as two twins, save for the bruise over Corin's eye. King Lune is embracing Shasta – and now addressing the men around them, who have broken into a mighty cheer. I believe he was asking if any man had any doubts – but it is hard to be sure; his lips were moving very quickly."

Shen's eyes, by now aching from her attempts to see what the Hermit had been describing, nevertheless narrowed again at his latest description, but with the same results. Blast _it! _ she wanted to exclaim as loudly as her breathless lungs would let her. "How does Shasta look?" she finally asked instead. "Are you _sure _he's all right?"

The Hermit finally rounded and looked straight into her eyes, his own crinkled in an open, understanding smile. "Yes, my daughter. He is standing straight and tall, and does not look in pain – only perhaps a bit bewildered. Given the nature of King Lune's greeting, however, I am sure he will have his best physicians ensure your brother's health."

"Ha! I should think so," put in Bree, whose confident snort could not quite mask the fright from which he was so obviously recovering. "After all the boy did for him. He may be only a foal, but I dare anyone in Calormen and all the northern kingdoms to find a foal, horse or human, more courageous and determined than that one."

Shen tried to smile, but the resulting grimace felt more like the beginning of a sob to her. "And _stupid_! Oh, what the _blazes _was that boy thinking? What a colossal _idiot_! He could have just stayed at Cair Paravel or wherever he ended up, but no, he just _had _to show off and go out to fight when he had to _know _he would be in danger and almost certainly end up getting killed! What a brainless – _oooohhh_!" She struck the air hard with both hands, which had by now become fists, and Bren hurriedly dodged away, barely missing a hearty smack from Shen's right hand.

"Shen," Aravis ventured tentatively, "at least he's all right – "

Shen, however, was not mollified in the least. "Not when I get through with him!" she continued. "He is going to wish he had never – even – _thought_ – " here her voice nearly broke altogether – "of going within a hundred _miles _of a battle! _Oooohhhh!_" This time she flattened her fists and slapped the air open-handed before wrapping her arms around her head and briefly leaning against Bren, whose reassuring whicker she sensed against her forehead.

_Thanks, Bren. Now nobody has to see me try not to explode. In fact, how about I hide like this until it gets dark out? I'd rather nobody see me make more of a fool of myself than I already have._

Eventually, however, she managed to force herself to stop the trembling she hadn't even noticed up until then. Pushing her hair off her face, she slowly turned to face the Hermit, who, fortunately, did not look in the least offended by her outburst. "Please accept my apologies, sir. I – " here she took a gulping breath – "have been extremely worried about my brother. I did not mean to offend you by being unnecessarily indecorous." _Yes – Aravis is definitely rubbing off on me._

The old man merely gave her another of his crinkling smiles, and Shen could have sworn he winked at her. "My daughter, it would have been far more offensive had you not been concerned for him at all. However, be assured your brother is safe now. You have no reason to worry about him any more. In fact, I am a bit more worried about you. You have not eaten since you arrived here two days ago. Perhaps we should all partake in a meal of celebration?"

Aravis, who had been standing silently throughout the exchange, offered Shen a tentative smile, then, seeing that the older girl was still clearly overwhelmed, turned back to the Hermit and nodded. "Yes, my father; we would both be very grateful."

The man's smile deepened. "Excellent. Shall we eat out here? If, that is – " he turned to Shen – "you are feeling up to it, my daughter."

Shen nodded mutely, and the man turned and headed off toward the stone hut at a great pace for a person of his apparent age. This at once jarred the girl into guilt.

"Aravis – " her voice still had a slight quaver to it – "do you know where he keeps the food? He should not have to do all the work himself; I'm not sick any more, after all."

Aravis smiled again. "Oh, he won't think you rude for it. Still – I'm sure we could both do with a bit of a walk. The bread should be back in the main room of the hut, and he keeps the colder things in a little cellar built into the ground beside it."

Everything was just as Aravis had said. The Hermit was in the largest room of the hut – Shen discovered that she and the Tarkheena had recuperated in a smaller room off to the side – piling chunks of what looked to have been an unusually large loaf of light-colored bread on a stone platter. _They almost look like they're pieces of a large loaf cut apart – hmmm. Maybe northerners don't have smaller loaves like we do in Calormen._ He sent them to the tiny cellar Aravis had described, where they fished out a clothbound wheel of cheese and a bowl of milk. By the time they emerged, the old man was well on his way back to the tree, bearing on his platter not only the bread, but also a number of round, red-and-green marbled fruits – which, Shen discovered once the group had sat down in the shade, tasted wonderfully sweet, juicy, and crunchy all at once. Aravis, who seemed to enjoy the new fruits as much as Shen, informed her that they were called "apples," and that she had heard rumors about them in Calormen, but only tasted them the previous evening. The Hermit said little throughout the meal, but his eyes twinkled especially merrily when he heard this particular conversation.

Toward the end of the dinner, Shen, whose overwhelming relief over the battle's outcome had in tandem with her days of rest increased her appetite exponentially, noticed that Aravis's movements had become stiffer than they had been all day. The younger girl did not utter a word of complaint, but Shen could clearly see her favoring her left shoulder and side.

The Hermit noticed this as well. "When you are finished eating, my daughter," he addressed the Tarkheena, "perhaps I should replenish the salve on your back?"

Aravis politely met his gaze, but hesitated ever so slightly before replying. "My father," she ventured at last, "I am unendingly grateful for the healing arts which you have exercised on my behalf. However, my friends and I will not impose upon your hospitality for much longer, and I believe my injuries will require attention past the time we depart from this place. Therefore, perhaps my friend Shen should apply the salve, so that she may become familiar with the practice – " here, briefly scrunching her lips toward the right side of her face as she shot Shen a genuinely questioning look – "assuming, of course, that she is amenable to it?"

Shen, her mouth still partly full of apple, managed to quickly and awkwardly swallow the fruit and cough only briefly before replying. "Yes – of – of course, Aravis. I would be happy to."

The Hermit acknowledged the exchange with a serenely understanding nod. "Of course, my daughters. You remember where the salve is?" He turned again to Aravis, who returned his nod.

A few minutes later, both girls were seated on Aravis's cot in the same room where they had recovered from their injuries. Aravis had produced from underneath the bed a tiny clay jar filled with an oddly grainy, teal-colored paste, which Shen gingerly began to rub across the cherry-red welts crisscrossing the left-hand and lower portions of the younger girl's back. _Ouch! _she very nearly exclaimed out loud. _Those look like some right nasty whip welts._ Fearful of hurting Aravis, she at first barely touched the skin at all, but after some assurance from the Tarkheena, she began to rub in the salve more vigorously, which produced a few slight flinches but no other reaction from the younger girl. _She may be a spoiled Tarkheena, but she can take a wound or two more than I thought she could. _

_Well realized, genius. The girl can take a good deal more than you thought she could, and you know it. Maybe she's not the only person who's been a bit unfair to the other here._

But the only thing she found herself able to say at the moment was, "Are you sure that isn't too hard, Aravis?"

The other girl shook her head. "No, you're rubbing it in just right." She paused a few moments before adding, "Um – thanks, by the way. I – didn't mean to – to force you to overexert yourself, though, you know. The Hermit has been wonderful about all of this, but I…well, it – it feels slightly less awkward to – to have another girl helping me out." She turned her head enough so that Shen could see the awkward sincerity in her brown eyes.

As Aravis opened her mouth again, Shen realized she didn't need to hear it. "Aravis, you haven't forced me to do anything. It's no trouble, honestly." She hesitated for a moment, then added, "Besides, it's the least I can do. If it hadn't been for you, we wouldn't have even known Narnia and Archenland were in danger, and heavens only know what sort of situation we would have traveled into." Unsure of what to say next, she instead took a deep breath and sniffed at the splotches of salve still present on her fingers. "Oh, I thought I recognized that scent! He's used blue ginger. No wonder these scratches look like they've been healing so quickly."

Aravis turned her head even more sharply at this. "You recognize the herb? I have read several medicine texts, and I do not remember hearing about it." Her left eyebrow quirked half-jokingly, half-inquiringly. "Did you forget to tell me you were a healer or apprentice healer of some sort back in Calormen?"

Shen flashed an unexpected half-smile at this. "No. I simply learned about it from – " here her smile faded – "experience at a fairly young age. I am rather clumsy, as I'm sure you have noticed by now."

Aravis's own smile disappeared instantly. "You're not as clumsy as my friend Lasaraleen, Shen, trust me." She paused for a long, awkward moment before apparently deciding not to say whatever she had wanted to say next, to Shen's utter relief. _Thank you, Aravis. I may not be as good as my brother at lying to my superiors, but I'm far worse at telling the truth, at least in this case. _

After another awkward pause, Aravis spoke up again. "In any case, your brother was right."

"Huh?" Shen hadn't expected this.

"He told me we had no reason to fear if any of us – well – got a minor or moderate injury," Aravis explained, "because he said you were so good at treating such wounds."

_Slightly less awkward, but not nearly "less" enough…no, you know what, not any less awkward at all, _Shen thought, but instead managed a brief half-smile before replying, "He may have exaggerated a bit. I was the only person around to treat his – well – scrapes and bruises when we were children, so naturally I had to learn how to do it passably well."

Aravis's mouth twisted as she bit her lower lip ever so slightly. "In any case, I am – very grateful." As Shen opened her mouth to reply, the younger girl continued, "And I know I might not have been here to have it applied to begin with had not you disregarded your own safety so fully and turned around when the Lion was pursuing me." After a second or two she appended, "And Shasta, as well, of course."

Try as she might, the Tarkheena could not keep the creeping pinkness from covering her face as she said this, and Shen was still debating whether or not to smile in response when the younger girl spoke again. "There are many brave Tarkaans I know who would not have dared to do what you did." Here her face dropped noticeably before she took a deep breath, forced her head back up to level with Shen's, and said with the help of a great deal of determination, "Especially for someone who – who had made a point of believing herself to be more superior than she actually was." She held Shen's gaze with a mixture of apology and embarrassment before dropping her head again.

Despite the similar expression crossing her own face, Shen managed to be the first to speak after the seeming millionth awkward pause of the day. "Aravis – " As she stopped, unsure of exactly how to phrase the next comment, the younger girl's mouth opened, and, for the second time in several minutes, Shen realized she didn't need to hear whatever it was. "No, really. My – um – previous experience with Tarkaans, limited though it was, was rather, well, negative. And somewhere along the way, I seem to have decided to apply the impressions I received then to _all _members of Tarkaan families whom I happened to chance upon – including you. Which was, of course – well – technically unfair, I guess. And – well – " Though she couldn't see her own face, she distinctly sensed its increasing redness. "Let's just say – " she forced herself to clear her throat and continue – "that I am not the only one of us to, um, labor under certain – uh – misconceptions about the other person."

Aravis shot her a quick smile out of the side of her mouth. "Shall we consider the score between us equally balanced, then?"

Shen returned the younger girl's still-awkward (though by now a bit less so) smile. "Of course." Not especially eager to prolong the embarrassed silence, she nodded toward Aravis's wounds and observed, "You, however, are uncommonly lucky. It looked like the lion could have torn your back clean open. As it is, the wounds look more like welts from a small whip than the result of a mauling." Her brow crinkled in a thoughtful frown. "If I remember properly, the beast even ran away after scratching you only once – twice at the most."

Aravis nodded. "Yes; I thought that was strange, as well. So did the Hermit." She wrinkled one eyebrow as she added, "He seems to think there is no such thing as luck, though."

Shen raised her eyebrows. "What did he say it was, then? The work of one of the gods? I don't know about you, but I, for one, didn't notice any of the gods' guardian animals following us." She tilted her head ever so slightly before adding, "But then, your eyes were probably sharper than mine during our journey."

The other girl shook her head. "No. I did not." She too paused, then said, "He did seem to think there was something else going on, although he did not say what." She barely perceptibly raised her shoulders before changing the subject. "What made you say my scratches look like welts from a _small _whip?"

Shen's brow wrinkled in genuine confusion. "You mean, why didn't I say they were from a large whip? Well, there are differences between the widths of the wounds they cause. Larger whips produce wider welts – which is why you're really doubly lucky…or whatever the Hermit would like to call it, perhaps. Smaller welts heal much more quickly and generally cause less pain, although it depends on how hard the person in question has been struck." Noticing Aravis's widened eyes, she quickly cut herself off. "I'm sorry. That answer was a good deal longer than it should have been." She re-stoppered the salve jar and re-fastened Aravis's shirt, which she noticed was the one the Tarkheena had been wearing when they had first met. _Talk about lucky! She actually had a second set of clothes to change into after that insanely sweat-inducing ride here from Tashbaan._ "There. You're all done."

But Aravis merely stared at her some more. Just as she took a fairly deep breath and began to speak, both girls' heads whipped around at the sound of the loud neighs suddenly emanating from the direction of the pen where the Hermit kept his goats. After exchanging puzzled looks, both girls left the hut at once and set out across the clearing.

By the time they reached the goat pen, the neighing had died down, and the three horses were engaged in a discussion at the rail of the pen, where Shen noticed the Hermit bent over one of the goats, petting and apparently speaking to it. _Hm. Maybe the goats talk, too?_

But the first animal she spoke to was Bren. "Bren, what happened? We heard a – a commotion going on."

The mare gave her a look that was partly confusion, partly embarrassment, and partly something Shen couldn't quite put her finger on before answering, "I'm sorry we disturbed you; we didn't mean to. One of the goats got out of the pen and – um – startled Bree – and then Hwin and me – a little. The Hermit ended up catching it, though."

At this point Shen noticed that Hwin, of all people – _well, horses _– looked about to burst into laughter over something Bren had said. However, the gentle mare managed to contain herself – that is, until Bree rolled his eyes and exclaimed, "Oh, you may as well just laugh at me, then. It's not as though I wasn't the closest to the pen when that infernal little creature burst out of it and began _gnawing _at my legs!"

At this, both mares finally did give rein to their laughter, and after a few moments even Bree couldn't help but smile a little, nor could the two girls. Bren, however, quieted down first, asking, "Shen, are you _sure _you should be up and about so completely yet? You – you were in very bad shape until today."

The Hermit heard this and straightened from his crouch beside the goat. "Her condition improved rapidly over the course of last night, cousin. I believe she is well on the way to full health." He directed his startlingly steely-blue gaze at Shen. "You have been able to hold your dinner well, my daughter?"

Shen, who had not quite yet accustomed herself to the Hermit's way of addressing her, nodded. "Yes, sir."

The Hermit returned her nod. "And does your head ache?"

Shen shook her head. _Amazing. My head actually hasn't hurt for several hours now for the first time in – what – a week?_

The man smiled. "Good. I would still advise you to get as much rest as possible over the next few days – which you are more than welcome to take in the house where you have been staying." His twinkling eyes turned to Aravis. "That goes for you, too, my daughter."

Aravis nodded. "Yes, father, I will."

"And thank you for your hospitality and your healing, sir," Shen added, awkwardly half-curtseying to him. "We have you to thank for our recoveries."

The Hermit smiled and bent back down to the goat. Shen turned to face Bren, who was still looking unusually subdued. "Bren? What's the matter?"

Bren shook her head. "It took all of the Hermit's skill to keep you from getting near death. We were so worried about you. And I never noticed you were sick at _all_! I shall never call myself a war horse again. Even the dumb Calormene battle horses take care of their riders better than that!"

Both girls began speaking at once.

"Bren, I told you, it's all right – " began Shen, at the same time Aravis exclaimed, "Oh, for heaven's _sake_, Bren, I thought the Hermit had scolded you badly enough over that already!"

Shen turned to Aravis. "The Hermit scolded her?"

Aravis nodded. "Well, Bree, too, to be fair – "

"I deserved it," put in Bree, his head hanging as low as his sister's.

" – and I figured both of them had _learned their lesson _already and would stop overly bemoaning their faults and thinking themselves so superior to other horses as to be above said faults any more, as he advised," finished Aravis pointedly, raising her eyebrows at the twin horses.

Bren spoke first after the awkward silence that followed. "Yes, Aravis, I understand. It is because of that that I wanted to be sure I let Shen know how sorry I am." She turned to face the latter directly for the first time in three days. "You are a great deal braver a foal than I ever gave you credit for," she said slowly, her voice softer than Shen had ever heard it. "Were you a war horse, you would be one of the highest caliber. As it is, you deserve a better mount than one as self-centered as me, and for that I am sorry."

"As am I," muttered Bree nearly inaudibly behind her.

Shen twisted her mouth into a slightly awkward half-smile. "As I told both of you before," she said, "I don't hold it against you. We all did everything we could to get here, and in the end we did. And Shasta is safe, and I'm sure we'll see him shortly. That's what really matters." Finally, she trudged over to Bren and patted the mare's head affectionately. "And I would not want any traveling companions other than the ones I have."

All three horses – and Aravis – returned her broad smile.

However, Shen found herself unable to fill the Hermit's prescription for a great deal of rest that night. Over and over again, she found herself replaying the Hermit's narration of the battle and the events after it, especially his comments about how Shasta and Corin looked like twins. _I wish I had been able to see this Prince Corin at a shorter distance than I did. I could have seen how alike they really looked. But if they do look as similar as the Hermit said they did…I wonder if we _are _related to him? _

_Oh, come on, Shen, don't be so idiotic – well, so much more idiotic than usual, at any rate. Corin is the prince of Archenland! If we were related to him, we'd be related to King Lune, and I'm sure we'd have been looked for extensively after we ended up in Calormen. Or we would have been well-protected enough not to end up there in the first place. And even supposing we were related to the king…wouldn't I remember that? I remember being on that ship well enough and getting my arm practically burned clean through, and I remember being on the raft with Shasta and…wait, I know there was a man there with us. Every time I think of it, I keep wondering if he was a knight…I keep on thinking he was holding a helmet of some sort. And if he _was _a knight…wouldn't that mean Shasta and I were important people of some sort?_

_Or you could have been prisoners, or children of prisoners, under constant guard – and nobody wanted you to escape. That's far more likely. And you can't even remember your parents in the first place!_

_Well, what about that large man – the one with the golden hair and the big laugh – I keep on thinking I remember? He could have been my father._

_Or not. Or he could be a figment of your imagination, conjured up in your desperate attempts to fabricate a better life for yourself to escape Arsheesh's cruelty. _

_But even if he isn't real, there's Shasta's resemblance to Prince Corin. _

_Maybe they just happen to look like each other, even though they're not related. You know you didn't get close enough to the prince to be sure. And the Hermit's eyes are pretty old. And besides, even _if _you're all related to each other, perhaps Corin isn't really a prince, but a commoner in disguise – a commoner just like you and Shasta._

A new and frightening thought occurred to her then. _And what if none of it matters? I never actually saw my brother in that pool; I had to rely on what the Hermit said. What if he didn't see as clearly as I thought he was seeing? And how do I know he even told the truth about what he saw?_

_Oh, come on, Shen. The man saved your life when he didn't have to – when he could just as easily have ended it. It doesn't make any sense for him to have lied to you about this._

_All right, fine – but he's still very old. How can you be sure he saw Shasta clearly? How do you know he's safe now?_

_Blast it all! Why is it that he can see into that pool, and I can't?_

Shen eventually drifted off to sleep, but was still yawning the next morning as she ate breakfast under the tree with her four fellow travelers. She only raised her head long enough to focus on the conversation around her when Hwin said, "I've had enough of this. The Hermit has been very good to us, and I'm very much obliged to him. But I'm getting as fat as a pet pony, eating all day and getting no exercise. Let's go on to Narnia."

_Wait. Go to Narnia _already_? I still haven't gotten over our last trip!_

Bree seemed to agree with her. "Oh, not today," he answered. "I wouldn't hurry things. Some other day, don't you think?"

Aravis tilted her head in apparent agreement. "We must go to Archenland and see Shasta first," she opined, "and see if he is ready to accompany us, or if we need to wait there until he is."

"Exactly!" Bree sounded thrilled. "Just what I was going to say."

"Oh, of course," conceded Hwin. "But Anvard _is _right on our way. And why shouldn't we start at once? After all, I thought it was Narnia we all wanted to get to?"

"I suppose so," answered Aravis in an oddly reluctant tone. _Well, I'm not particularly keen on hauling off to another new, strange, and possibly very dangerous place, either._

"Of course," said Bree. "But there's no need to rush things, if you know what I mean."

Bren was grinning at him by the time Hwin replied, "No, I don't know. Why don't you want to go?"

Bree fidgeted before finally neighing uncomfortably. "Well," he began, "don't you see – it's an important occasion – returning to one's own country – entering society – the best society – it is so essential to make a good impression – not perhaps looking quite ourselves yet, eh?"

Bren, no longer able to contain herself, emitted a loud, snorting laugh. "You knuckle-snout, Bree! Why don't you just admit you want to wait till your tail's grown again? And we really don't know if talking Narnian horses even wear their tails long! Honestly, you're as vain as that giggly Tarkheena friend of Aravis's back in Tashbaan!"

Both girls were grinning broadly as well, and Shen couldn't help but agree with both Bren and Hwin, who merely smiled and said, "You are being a bit silly, Bree."

"By the Lion's mane, Hwin, I'm nothing of the sort," Bree snorted back, clearly affronted. "I have a proper respect for myself and for my fellow horses, that's all."

This piqued Aravis's interest. "Bree," she said, ignoring Hwin and Bren, who looked about to roll on the ground with laughter, "I've been wanting to ask you something for a long time. Why do you keep saying 'By the Lion' and 'By the Lion's Mane'? I thought you hated lions."

_By the Lion's Mane? Well, he did say that a few times before we met Aravis, but I must have been too shy – or too worried about getting chased down and murdered by Tarkaans – to ask him about it. That, or he said it an awful lot during the time we were all split up in Tashbaan._

"So I do," Bree answered the Tarkheena. _Well, I can't blame him there. I daresay I've seen enough lions to last me for the rest of my life._ "But when I speak of _the _Lion, of course I mean Aslan, the great Deliverer of Narnia who drove away the Witch and the Winter. All Narnians swear by _Him_."

"But He's still – well – technically a Lion," pointed out Shen. _Come to think of it, Hashim did say that one or another of the old stories he'd heard said the northern countries – or was it only Narnia? I don't remember – were guarded by a monster of some sort, that might have been a Lion. Could that have been what he meant?_

"No, no, He isn't!" Bree exclaimed. "Of course not!"

"All the stories about Him in Tashbaan say He is," said Aravis thoughtfully. _Hm. She must have heard more stories than I did. Lucky girl._ "And if He isn't a Lion, why do you call Him a Lion?"

"Well, you'd hardly understand that at your age – " Bree began.

His sister snorted at him. "Oh, Bree, _please _don't insult them that way! After all – " here she threw him a very pointed stare – "didn't we just agree yesterday that we're a lot _less _intelligent than they are about a great number of things? And even if He isn't a Lion, or isn't real at all, oughtn't they to be allowed to decide that for themselves?"

Bree snorted right back at her. "Well, my point is, we ourselves were only foals when we were taken – like they are now – and we didn't fully understand it ourselves at the time."

"Of course we were," Hwin put in soothingly. "We all were. But the possibility should be considered, don't you think?"

Bree took very little notice of her. "No doubt," he went on, "when they speak of Him as a Lion, they only mean He's as strong as a Lion or (to our enemies, of course) as fierce as a Lion. Or something of that kind."

This may have made sense to Shen, and even provoked a thoughtful reply, had she not been busy staring at the enormous golden creature that had appeared out of nowhere on top of the green earth-wall behind Bree and, even as the stallion spoke the words "fierce as a Lion," leaped off the ledge and onto the ground without making any more noise than a blade of grass blowing in the wind.

_Oh, no. Oh, no, oh no, oh _NO_. This is _not _happening. Did I not just decide I'd seen enough Lions? Bree, move! Run! Now!_

But not so much as a squeak of warning could make its way out of Shen's mouth, and all she could do was open her mouth and eyes as wide as possible, and otherwise stay frozen in shock and silent protest, as Bree, who was completely oblivious to the Lion's presence, continued his lecture.

"Even two girls as young as you," he fairly sniffed, "must see that it would be quite absurd to suppose He is a _real _Lion. Indeed, it would be disrespectful. If He was a Lion, He'd have to be a Beast just like the rest of us. Why – " and here he emitted a sound halfway between a barking laugh and an outright snort – "if He was a Lion, He'd have four paws, and a tail, and _whiskers_! – Ooh! He-haaaah! Help!" And he shot away from the Lion as though he had been launched out of some mighty bow, right before Shen realized belatedly that he must have actually felt one of the Lion's whiskers tickle his head, since the Lion had pulled up beside the horse without actually touching him. Bree's actions stirred the others to their own; Aravis and Bren scuttled backwards as fast as they could without taking their eyes off the beast, while Hwin retreated more slowly. Shen, in her haste to get as far away as she could, whirled around to flee toward the wall, and promptly tripped over the hem of her skirt. Scrambling to her feet, she noticed that Bree too had finally seen the Lion and was huddling next to the wall on the other side of his sister, while Hwin, in a gesture that nearly made Shen faint in shock and fright, reversed her direction and began slowly trotting _toward_ the Lion. Instead, her voice finally regained its ability, and she emitted a tiny squeal of sheer terror at the same time the mare opened her mouth, bowed her head deeply, and began to speak to the Beast.

"Please," she neighed, "You're so beautiful. You may eat me if You like. I'd sooner be eaten by You than fed by anyone else."

_Huh? _and _No, Hwin, no! It _will _eat you!_ were the only thoughts Shen's overwhelmed mind could form, but an unspoken realization began to form at a deeper level of her consciousness, triggered by the proximity of the Lion's appearance to Bree's explanation about a Beast named Aslan.

"Dearest daughter." A richly rumbling, booming voice tinged with an almost fatherly gentleness broke Shen's train of thought as she watched the Lion address Hwin as He lion-kissed her on the nose. "I knew you would not be long in coming to Me. Joy shall be yours."

_It – He – could this be Bree's Aslan? – talks? He's not eating Hwin? She's smiling at Him? Huh? Whoa, Bren! Wait just a minute!_

For the Lion had turned His magnificent head toward Bren and spoken her name, and the mare in turn had taken a few very hesitant, very awkward steps toward the Beast and bowed her head before Him.

"I – I – " She cleared her throat, which, since she was a horse, sounded more like an extremely strange, awkward neigh than anything else. "I am ashamed of myself, Aslan. Every time I saw You, or heard of You, I chose to see and hear wrongly." She opened her mouth as if to go on, then, obviously overcome, shut it again.

"My daughter." The Lion repeated the gesture by which He had greeted Hwin. "Anyone who can see that has already opened her eyes and begun to see wisdom."

Then the Lion's voice grew louder and the tiniest bit sharper, causing Shen to cower against the tree, which she now discovered was flush against her back. "Now, Bree," He continued, "you poor, proud, frightened horse, draw near." Shen could only watch in amazement as Bree actually did as he was told, although he was trembling noticeably. "Nearer still, My son. Do not dare not to dare. Touch Me. Smell Me. Here are My paws, here is My tail, and these are My whiskers. I am a true Beast."

For a long moment Bree could not speak, and when he finally did, his voice was trembling almost as badly as his body. "Aslan," he managed at last, "I'm afraid I must be rather a fool."

But instead of scolding the horse – or tearing into him, as Shen was still afraid He might do – the Lion actually smiled and brushed His whiskers against Bree's snout again.

"Happy the horse who knows that while he is still young," He rumbled. "Or the human, either." As Shen's overwhelmed mind struggled to comprehend this new turn of events, the Lion turned to Aravis, who was standing frozen in place several yards from the older girl.

"Draw near, Aravis My daughter," the Lion continued, His voice now nearly as soft as silk. "See! My paws are velveted. You will not be torn this time."

As Aravis, her brow now wrinkled very deeply, ground out, "This time, Sir?", the full import of the Lion's words hit Shen as hard as her head had hit the palm tree that day in Tashbaan, and simultaneously her voice returned in full.

"No, Aravis!" she shrieked as the younger girl began to cautiously approach the Lion. "He tore you before! That's what He means! He's the Lion who chased us here and hurt you when you tried to get away from Him!"

For the first time, the Lion turned His eyes – which some buried corner of Shen's mind realized were just as enormous and tawny-gold as His body – squarely toward her. She immediately shrank back as far as she could against the tree.

"Yes, My daughter." His voice was even softer than it had been when He had addressed Aravis only minutes before. "I am that Lion. I am the only Lion you met in all your journeyings."

_All of our journeyings? _All_? Wait – when we met Aravis, He was _two_ Lions at once? That's not possible! And that night in the desert, with the jackals…_

Leaving Shen motionless, speechless, and slack-jawed, the Lion adjusted His gaze slightly to look at Aravis. "Do you know why I tore you?" He asked.

"No, Sir," replied Aravis, whose eyes were every bit as wide as Shen's.

"The scratches on your back – tear for tear, throb for throb, blood for blood, were equal to the stripes laid on the back of your stepmother's slave because of the drugged sleep you cast upon her," the Lion continued. "You needed to know what it felt like."

_I _thought _those scratches looked like whip-welts, _muttered the ever-detached corner of Shen's mind, at the same time another corner spouted, _Well, it _does _serve her right for treating the girl that way – not to mention being so Tarkaanishly cavalier about it._ But the greatest portion was still screaming loudly in disbelief and terror. _Not happening, not happening, not _happening_! No, Aravis, no! Shen, run away! I don't care what He says – how do you know He won't eat you anyway? That's what lions do!_

But she still noticed Aravis answering the Lion. "Yes, Sir. Please – um – " She cleared her throat while somehow managing to look the Beast almost fully in the face.

"Ask on, My dear," the Lion encouraged her.

"Will any more harm come to her by what I did?" Aravis's voice, always so steely and sure, was now trembling noticeably.

"Child," the Lion replied, "I am telling you your story, not hers. No one is told any story but their own."

At this, Shen found her voice again. _I have to know. No matter what He does, I _have _to know._ "Then You don't – can't – I – I can't – I can't know if Shasta is all right?" she burst out.

Once again, the magnificently golden eyes met hers. _They're so deep,_ was the only thought she could muster to explain why she had suddenly become so overwhelmed that she very nearly sank to her knees. That, and – _No. No. Oh, _blast _it, no. It can't be. It can't possibly be…_

But the Lion did not dispute her suspicions. He only – _did He just _smile _at me?_ "The Hermit sees well," He replied. "He told the truth about what he saw in the pool yesterday. King Lune welcomed your brother into Anvard with open arms."

It took a few moments for Shen to feel the tears that had suddenly formed over her eyes. She could still see the Lion's eyes, though, and they had gentled more deeply than Shen had ever thought possible in a human, let alone a talking beast. "He did what he came to do, My daughter, and now he will do much more, as will you, for your brother was right – your true home is in the north. That is why I pursued all six of you so that you would join together that night by the sea. It is why I led you through Tashbaan as a cat and reunited you with your brother, and later comforted you both among the tombs. It is why I drove the jackals away from you in the dead of night, and why I spurred the horses to run faster so that your brother would reach King Lune in time. And it is why I crossed the Eastern Sea to push the raft that carried you and your baby brother as you lay near death so that you would drift safely to the Calormene shore."

As He spoke, He gradually approached her, step by surprisingly tiny half-step, until, by the time He spoke His last words, He was positioned only a few yards away from her. Shen, whose eyes were by now so clouded with tears that she could barely see Him, and who in any case had nowhere to run, merely stood stock-still and slumped against the tree trunk. However, she could see – although barely see – the smile that reached both His face and His eyes, and, for the first time since He had appeared that morning, her woefully entangled jumble of thoughts did not include _I wonder if He'll eat me now?_

By the time Shen had recovered from a prolonged blink, the Lion had backed up toward the wall behind Him and turned His head to address the entire party.

"Be merry, little ones," He told them. "We shall meet soon again. But before that, you will have another visitor."

One shake of His mane later, He had leaped to the top of the wall, and a blink of Shen's eyes later, He had vanished from her sight.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE (sorry, this one could only come at the end of the chapter): I know this chapter was a long one, but it had to be – Shen (and the others) had a lot of eye-opening to do! And I know I promised this chapter would be pivotal, but Shen – and the story – have only done half of their "pivot" so far. I wanted to put the other half with this one, but it simply got too long, and I didn't want to make your eyes go numb trying to read it all in one go! The next chapter will contain the remainder of Shen's "turnaround time."**

**As always, thanks for reading! I would particularly love to hear your thoughts on this chapter. Even if it's only one sentence, your review means a great, great deal to me – and helps keep me motivated as I continue the story! ******


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

**PRONUNCIATION GUIDES: First of all – I can't believe I didn't put this in before, but just for future reference, Hashim is pronounced Huh-SHEEM, and Ruhandi is pronounced Roo-HAHN-dee (i.e., rhymes with "Han Solo," not "hand.")**

**Second – Carisa is pronounced Kuh-REE-suh (not Kuh-RISS-ah), and Cari is pronounced CARR-ee (NOT CARE-ee!).**

**Why do you need this guide? Read on and find out!**

After Aslan had left, the shock and fright that had kept Shen's body stiffly upright began to seep out of her, and, both utterly drained and completely overwhelmed, she promptly slid down against the tree trunk to sit, her head between her knees, on the ground.

_Didn't happen. Not happening. Not _happening_!_ was the only set of thoughts her overwrought mind would produce at first, followed by, _How many times have I seen a Lion and survived by now?_

_Well, technically it was the same Lion you were seeing every time, you idiot, and He clearly didn't _want _to eat you. If He had, you'd be worse than pig-roast by now._

_And I'm supposed to believe that? There were clearly _two _Lions, not one, the night Shasta and I met Aravis. He couldn't have been in two places at once!_

_Right. And no Lion ever attacks a person meaning only to scratch her and not kill her, either._

_Well, even assuming for the sake of the argument that He _was _two Lions at once…what about the cat? A Lion is not a street cat. They're two completely different creatures._

_  
But they had the same eyes. Almost exactly_ _the same eyes, come to think of it. The cat's eyes were green, and the Lion's are gold, but they're the exact same _almost_-round shape. And both the cat and the Lion had the same brown flecks in their left eyes. They both – or technically all four, I guess – caught and held the light in that same uncanny way. And on top of that – oh, blast it, I can't put a finger on it. But the cat's eyes had that same insanely intelligent, wise, _knowing _look as the Lion's do._

_Still, though…a _cat_? It's technically completely impossible, and you know it, Shen!_

_Yes, and so is a talking Lion that doesn't eat people. But there He was, and you saw Him and heard Him…just as you saw and heard the cat. And He's…He's…He's _that _Lion. You know that when Bree said His name, it jarred your memory, even though you didn't know why – you must have been told about Him at some point before you came to Calormen. _

Slowly, Shen raised her head ever so slightly and promptly banged it down onto her knees in frustration. _Why can't these impossible things just keep from happening? Wait a minute…maybe they _are _impossible after all, and I'm imagining them. _

_No way. I couldn't possibly imagine creatures like these if I tried – not to mention a distinctly non-evil Tarkheena who wants to travel to Narnia. And I _know _I didn't imagine seeing the Lion that night when I was a little girl. Or rather, even if I did, it was a dream I'd been having long before all these other crazy things started happening. And anyway, I _did _get my arm burned aboard that ship; there's no way I made that up, either._ Even as she smacked her forehead against her knees a few more times, her left hand reached around and instinctively rubbed her right forearm, where she felt the small, pomegranate-red slash. _Yes…still there. At least I know I haven't made _all _of this up._

_Oh, for heaven's sake, Shen. You haven't made _any _of it up; you're simply not creative enough. You just don't want to think it's real._

_Because none of it is technically _possible_, that's why! Double-triple-quadruple _blast _it all, I hate this! _And once more she began hitting her head – which had begun throbbing again – on her knees, this time with a bit more force. _Ouch. Oh, well, at least I'm used to headaches._

"Shen?" somebody – was it Aravis? – seemed to be whispering somewhere near her right ear. Aravis seemed a bit worried. _And I don't even want to know what she's worried about. Whatever it is, bring it on. It can't possibly top what's already happened._

"Shenari!" This time the voice was loud and rather insistent as well as worried.

The use of her full name finally made Shen stop smacking her head and raise it instead. Aravis, looking every bit as worried as she had sounded, was kneeling beside her. Still a bit dazed, Shen watched the other girl's mouth form the words, "Are you all right?" A second or two later, the sound of her voice followed the visual impression.

Eventually Shen realized Aravis would want a response, and so she nodded very slightly. "Are you?" she finally forced herself to fairly gasp out.

Aravis nodded, her brows still furrowed. "Are you sure your head doesn't hurt?"

At this Shen actually laughed. "After the last few days? Not so much." _Well, at least I haven't lost my ability to form sentences._ She raised her head a bit more. "Where are the horses?"

"Oh, they're with the Hermit," the other girl replied quickly. "He's cooked them something good to eat." One corner of her mouth quirked upwards uncertainly. "I daresay they could use it – especially Bree. He's still in a bit of a shock, I think."

Shen nodded very slowly in reply. "Oh. I suppose he's allowed." The other corner of Aravis's mouth joined the first to form a still-concerned smile. _I wonder if the Hermit had to call _him _out of his shock by using his full name. Now _that _would have been a mouthful – _"Wait!" she exclaimed suddenly, causing Aravis to start. "Full name…How did you learn my full name, anyway? That's twice now you've used it. And I know I introduced myself as Shen." She tilted her head and frowned. "Didn't I?"

At this, Aravis's worried smile turned into one of embarrassment, and Shen could have sworn her soft brown skin reddened ever so slightly. "No – I mean, yes, you did. Shasta told me your full name the day we went begging at that farm." She bit her lip ever so slightly, and the redness deepened by at least half a shade.

This snapped Shen almost entirely out of her daze for the moment, and she rolled her eyes and emitted an exasperated sigh. "As though I needed another reason to kill him – ugh! He _knows _I don't like it when people use my full name!" She added quickly, "I mean – I know you didn't know that, Aravis, so I don't blame you. But I am – oh, that boy is in trouble, and he had better blasted well know it when I see him!" After smacking the ground once with both fists, she sighed. "Don't worry too much. I don't think I'll kill him, just give him a good smacking or two. Maybe that will teach him, although I seriously doubt it." She rolled her eyes again.

Aravis's face had twisted into an amused smile by this time. "In other words, he is every bit as annoying as my brothers, then?"

Shen couldn't help but smile back. "Apparently." She had just opened her mouth to ask how old Aravis's younger brother was when she was interrupted by three noisy blasts from – _well, it sort of sounds like the sheep's horns the people in the village blew during the Festival of Horns. These make higher-sounding notes, though, _Shen thought even as she scrambled to her feet along with Aravis.

"Who is there?" the younger girl called out, the Tarkheena authoritativeness instantly re-entering her voice.

"His Royal Highness Prince Cor of Archenland," announced a man's voice from just outside the door in the Hermit's wall.

_Cor! That's it! _That_'s the name I was trying to think of when Shasta introduced Corin to me in Tashbaan! I knew it! _screamed Shen's suddenly exhilarated mind, before the confusion overtook it. _But that's not what I named my doll. I know I named _her _something a bit different…_

Aravis's voice, however, interrupted that thought process. "Isn't that the prince you said you and Shasta met in Tashbaan?" she queried.

Shen shook her head, willing a few of the cobwebs away. "No," she answered firmly, "his name was _Corin_. That much I remember." After pausing for a moment, she added, "Maybe I heard that man wrong," and inclined her head toward the door.

Aravis shook her head. "No, you heard right. That, or we both heard wrong. I suppose we'll see in a moment." And she marched up to the door and opened it.

Immediately, two tall, golden-haired men entered the enclosure, stood one on each side of the doorway, and turned sharply to face each other. Despite her shock, Shen immediately noticed that they were garbed after the fashion of the Narnian entourage she had seen in Tashbaan, except that they wore solid mail coats under their tunics, each of which was a deep royal blue with a golden eagle emblazoned on the front. Also, it did not escape Shen's notice that each man was armed with both a sword and some kind of gigantic, point-ended axe taller than himself. While still gaping in shock at the soldiers, she vaguely registered the entrance of two more unfamiliar men, both dressed like the other two but without the armor. One bore a pole about the height of the soldiers' axes; on its top was perched a blue flag with a golden eagle nearly identical to the men's tunics. The other man held a curiously straight horn – _these northerners apparently don't like their instruments curved_ – and a smaller version of the eagle flag hung from it.

"His Royal Highness Prince Cor of Archenland desires an audience of his sister and the Lady Aravis," announced the man with the flag. Before Shen's still-stunned mind could get beyond _His sister? Huh?_, both men stepped aside, one next to each of the soldiers, to reveal a golden-haired boy a little taller than Shen. Before she could blink her glazed eyes to get a good look at him, she felt Aravis's elbow nudging her ribs – not painfully, but still pointedly.

_Good morning, idiot. He's a prince; you'd better blasted well show him some respect!_

The two girls curtsied at the same time, but their execution could hardly have been different; Aravis swept through hers with the practiced grace of born-and-bred nobility, while Shen, who had at some point begun to tremble slightly, barely managed to get through hers without tripping over her own feet.

This seemed to strike the prince as funny, for Shen heard a hearty, boyish laugh somewhere above her head.

_Oh, no. Oh, _double _blast it, no, it cannot _possibly _be…_

And as she jerked her head upward, she lost her balance, barely managing to break her fall with her hands – but not before she recognized the face.

"_Shasta!"_ both girls exclaimed at once, Shen hastily scrambling to her feet as she did so. For it was indeed Shasta who stood before her, if in nearly unrecognizable clothing; he wore red leggings and a matching under-tunic embroidered in gold thread, with a similarly decorated white-and-gold over-tunic covering them both. However, what caused Shen's jaw to drop farther than she could ever remember dropping it before – save perhaps for the night they had met Bree and Bren – was the thin but very real circlet, made of gold hammered into the shape of a crown of leaves, that adorned his head.

_All right, that's it. I have finally gone over the edge. There is no _way _on earth…_

She finally snapped back to reality, if only dimly, due to her brother waving his hand in front of her face. "Hey, Shen! Shen!" When she finally lifted her Calormene-crescent-wide eyes to meet his twinkling ones, he was grinning profusely. "I asked, are you done tripping yet, or should I wait a little while longer?"

And that finally did snap Shen out of her daze. Practically before she was even aware of it, she had leaped forward, thrown her arms around her brother, and simultaneously begun pounding him – though not too hard – on the shoulder.

"You – you – Shasta, you – you – I do not _believe _you!" she fairly shrieked. "Did you _want _to die? And – oh, for heaven's _sake_, did you want me to die, too, out of fearing for your life? What on this earth were you _thinking_? You've never been taught to use a sword, and yet you run headlong into a battlefield full of enemies, and horses, and swords, and heavens only know _what _other sharp, spiked, deadly weapons all _over _the place! Auuuurgh! If I hadn't seen you come so flat-blasted close to dying, I'd kill you myself!" Finally, too overcome to shout at him any more, she gave his shoulder one final punch and let out a very long, very shaky sigh in an attempt to calm herself while simultaneously slapping the air once with her open hands in a final gesture of exasperation.

By now, her brother's eyes, like Aravis's, were nearly as wide as Shen's had been when she had first seen him at the Hermit's door, and it took a long moment before he finally smiled very sheepishly and got himself to speak.

"Shen, come on, it's all right, see? Look – " and he waved his lightly bandaged right hand in front of her face – "this is all the injury I got, all right? I had way worse than that falling off of Bree on our way here. Really, it's only a scratch." As though to emphasize his words, he scratched his nose awkwardly with a finger of his bandaged hand. "I'll probably end up scratching it worse than that, anyway, trying to keep this stupid crown on my head. See?" And with his other hand, he reached up toward the item in question and pretended to rub his fingers along the edge of one of the golden leaves. "Ow!" he exclaimed, now in full exaggeration mode, as he cradled the newly-"scratched" fingers in his bandaged hand. "Ouch! It hurts! It hurts!"

Aravis, who had been watching the entire scene with a mixture of amusement and a less easily definable emotion, burst out laughing.

Shen threw up her hands in surrender. "All right, all right, all _right_!" she interjected. "Just – stop _doing _that, all right? And if you ever – I mean _ever _again, mind you – try pulling a stunt like that again, I _will _make it hurt much worse. All right?"

Shasta rolled his eyes, but shot her his most reassuring smile – the same one he'd used countless times when Shen had cared for him after they'd been beaten by Arsheesh, and many times after that when he'd fallen off of Bree on their northward journey. The corners of Shen's mouth finally curled upwards in her usual answering smile, almost of their own accord.

That was when the reality of the crown on his head finally registered.

"Wait!" she exclaimed, her brow furrowing all of a sudden. "You're not Prince Corin!"

"No," her brother answered, returning her puzzled frown. "I'm not."

"But the – " here Shen tilted her head surreptitiously toward the man who had announced Shasta's arrival – "the man with the flag – he announced you as – well, it sounded an awful lot like 'Corin', and it definitely wasn't 'Shasta' – "

"Oh." Her brother's face immediately reddened. "That. Well, see, he actually said 'Cor'" – _I thought so_ – "because that's, uh, my real name."

"What?" _All right, maybe I _am _imagining all of this after all._ "Who told you that?"

"My father," answered her brother at once.

"Your – wait a minute!" Shen's eyes widened in pure terror for the briefest of moments. "You don't mean Arsheesh – no, wait a minute – "

"Oh, no, not him," her brother was quick to reassure her. "I mean my real father. King Lune."

"_What?"_ Shen's voice had risen to a near-scream again. "Shasta, what on _earth _– "

Her brother quickly interrupted her. "You remember seeing Corin, right? And how much I told you he looked like me?"

Shen nodded weakly.

"It's because we're twins. I think it's some sort of Archenlander custom – giving brothers names that sound alike, I mean. So of course that means I'm the king's son, too." He grimaced slightly. "Which is why they made me put on these strange clothes and the crown and all – "

"Wait a minute." In the midst of Shen's disbelief, a horrible thought tore its way into her mind. "Wait. If – if you're Corin's brother and King Lune's son, does that mean you're not – we're not – you're not my brother?" And for the second time that day, her eyes filled of their own accord with tears, except that this time a couple of them very nearly leaked free of her eyes.

Her brother's face immediately reddened. "No," he answered hastily, "it doesn't – I mean, you're – of course you're my sister, Shen." He hesitated a moment before adding, "Oh, I mean – well, your name isn't really Shen, either. Or Shenari," he added hastily. "Father says he and Mother named you Carisa when you were born – but they called you Cari for short." He paused, his face reddening a bit deeper before he continued. "Oh, right. When I told Father about you, he said to tell you that he loves you and he can't wait to meet you." A bit of the flush disappeared as he hastened to add, "And Corin says to tell you he hopes you're not a total wet blanket, because he's heard older sisters can get like that."

But Shen barely heard the last couple of sentences, having descended into nearly full-blown mental disarray.

Cari_! That's what I named my doll! I knew Ruhandi helped me make her when I was younger from the scraps of the dress I wore on the raft, and I knew the name I gave her was something similar to "Cor" and "Corin". But "Carisa"? I don't think I named her that…_

_Oh, for heaven's _sake_, Shen, to blazes with the doll!…All right, that was a bit harsh, but still…Arsheesh took her, and she's gone. And you more or less decided to forget her name when you wouldn't think of her after Ruhandi…well, anyway, right now, why don't you at least _try_ to focus on the bigger issue here – you know, the part about being born the daughter of a northern king and not a Calormene fisherman, if your brother is right? _

_Which is why he has to be wrong. I'm no princess – I don't remember living in a palace! And I _definitely _don't remember having any father – any parent, for that matter – other than Arsheesh._

_Yes, you do. What about that memory of the large man standing and laughing in front of you?_

_How do I know that was King Lune? It could have been any man I saw as a little girl. For that matter, I could have dreamed him or made him up somewhere along the way because I wanted a father who didn't beat me – a father like Ruhandi's._

_Yes, but you also often wondered if you'd made up the memory of that night on the raft with the Lion blowing you toward the shore. Obviously, that wasn't the case._

_Fine…that is, _if _I can actually believe that, first of all, that really _was _the same Lion I spoke to today, and second, that He _is _the same Aslan I heard Bree, and maybe, when I was little, my parents, talking about – oh, and third, that He was really there today at all._

_Oh, come off it. He was the most real Being you've ever seen or spoken to, and you know it._

_All right, fine. You win that argument. But still…if my father really is such a powerful king, then why didn't he go looking for his children – or go to the Tisroc and demand our return?_

_Well, if your memories, as well as everything you've learned so far, are correct, you probably were in a shipwreck of some sort. Heavens only know the scar on your arm proves that the incident you remembered on the ship actually happened. So your father may have heard the reports of it and thought you dead. And how do you _know _he never tried to get you back? You never exactly knew much about Archenland. Even Hashim didn't know for certain that it still existed as a nation – he only said that it _had _existed at some point, and that the northern peoples had obviously survived the wars in some form or other, as you and your brother proved._

_All right, all right. I _know _I didn't make up the memory of that evil man burning my arm. And I definitely don't know much about my own country – all right, about _Calormen _– let alone other countries. But still, a _princess_…"Princess Carisa"? Oh, _blast _it, no, that just sounds wrong…at least on me. And "Princess Cari" doesn't sound much better. I mean, granted, I could have gotten a far uglier-sounding name – or nickname – but still…"Cari"…it just sounds too odd. It was my doll's name, not _my _name! _

As if to echo her confused thoughts, it took a nearly-shouted "Shenari!" from Shen's brother to bring her back to reality – _no, _sur_reality is far more like it._ Even so, she somehow managed to look up at her brother, although her dazed expression barely changed a bit.

"My doll…" were the first two words she could muster, and then only after blinking hard and opening her mouth a couple of times. "'Cari' – that was my doll's name." She blinked again and, seeing the bewildered look on her brother's face, shook her head slightly before continuing. "You probably don't remember her. Arsheesh – took her away when I was still pretty young. But I made her when you were still a baby from the dress I wore that night on the raft, and I named her Cari."

Her brother raised his eyebrows half-quizzically, half-excitedly. "The raft? You remember the night we got to Calormen on the raft?"

Shen raised her own eyebrows in return. "You know about that?" Finally, her curiosity overcame her confusion – at least for the moment – and she added, "Wait – who told you about it? Did they say how we got onto the raft in the first place? Was there a shipwreck first?"

Her brother's eyebrows shot up even farther. "You know about that, too? Do you know the whole story, then?"

Shen shook her head. "No, it was just a guess. I remember being on a ship and then on a raft, but I don't remember the shipwreck itself." She thought to add, "Assuming there was one, of course."

Still looking nearly as confused as she was, her brother nodded. "Yes. But that's more or less in the middle of the story – as Father told it, anyway."

"Well, why don't you start at the beginning, then?" _My head might actually start doing something other than spinning then. Who knows – it might even decide to ache just for the fun of it!_

Shasta – _Cor? _– nodded his agreement, then glanced at Aravis, who had been following the entire exchange and for once looked as if she didn't know down from up, either. "Aravis, is it all right if we sit down? The Hermit won't mind, right?"

Aravis shook her head at once. "Of course not."

By an unspoken agreement, the three moved several yards away from the prince's retainers before seating themselves on the ground as the prince began his tale.

"So – I told you Corin and I are twins, right? So Father says that when we were about a month old, he and Mother took all of us – you, too, Shen – um, Cari – um, what would you rather I call you?" The look he shot her then echoed both the concern and the vulnerability in his voice.

Shen, still not feeling much up to speaking, shook her head slightly to clear it, then shrugged. "'Shen' will do for now, until I've – um – thought about all this some more…Cor?"

Her brother flashed her a brief grin then. "'Cor' will do for now…technically."

He grinned even more widely at Shen's answering eyeroll, faint though it was, and continued. "So anyway, they took us to Narnia to be blessed by a wise old centaur."

"A _what_?" Despite her continuing shock, Shen was unable to contain her curiosity. "You mean those half-horse, half-human creatures Hashim told us about are _real_?"

Cor cocked his head for a moment, then shrugged. "Huh. I don't remember Hashim telling us about centaurs. Father had to tell me what they were. But anyway – " he smiled again at a second eyeroll from his sister – "centaurs are apparently really good as prophets, and this one was better at it than most. Yes, I _know _Hashim probably told us that, too," he added, seeing Shen about to open her mouth again. This time, however, Aravis beat her to the punch.

"_I _had always heard they were powerful and dangerous sorcerers," she put in, then colored slightly. "Although I suppose I never heard about horses being able to talk, either."

"Oh, horses aren't the only ones in Narnia – and Archenland – who can talk," Cor assured her. "Bree was right – all the different kinds of animals can. I mean, I saw a few like that in Tashbaan among King Edmund and Queen Susan's party, but Father says Narnia is pretty well made up of them. I suppose it'll take a bit of getting used to."

"I daresay," agreed Aravis. Shen merely nodded; it had been one thing to hear about talking animals from Bree – as well as her brother's brief description of his afternoon with Narnian royalty – when they had been far away back in Calormen. However, it was quite another to hear that they comprised much of the northern population from someone who had been fighting alongside a veritable army of them only the previous day.

Meanwhile, Cor continued the story. "Anyway, as soon as the centaur saw us, he looked at you – " here he looked pointedly at his sister – "and me and said, 'A day will come when that boy and girl will save Archenland from the deadliest dangers in which ever she lay.' So of course Mother and Father were very pleased. But somebody else there wasn't pleased at all. His name was Lord Bar – " Shen's eyes suddenly grew very wide, but Cor didn't notice – "and he'd been Father's Lord Chancellor. And apparently he'd done something wrong – _bezzling _or some word like that – "

"_Embezzling_, Shasta – Cor," Shen corrected her brother, despite her daze.

"_Em_bezzling, then. Fine. So anyway, he stole from Father, and Father had to dismiss him. But he didn't do anything else, and Lord Bar was allowed to keep living in Archenland. But he ended up being as horrid as anybody could be, because Father found out afterward that he had been in the pay of the Tisroc all along and had used his position to spy and send state secrets back to Tashbaan. So as soon as he heard what the centaur said about you and me, he decided to get rid of us. Somehow or other, he kidnapped us both – I don't know exactly how he did it – and rode down the Winding Arrow – apparently it curves up to the southwest border of Narnia, where we were – to the Eastern Sea, where he had a ship full of his followers waiting for him. But as soon as Father found out, he set after him immediately. He got to the coast before Lord Bar's ship had sailed out of sight. And Father got on board one of his own ships within twenty minutes and set out after him."

_Kidnapped? That would make my memories make more sense, I suppose, especially the one about us both being kept in trunks…Wait! Before we got put in the trunks, we got wrapped up in blankets first…_Suddenly, Shen's mind was flooded with new impressions – just a few, but they immediately formed themselves into a cycle that repeated itself several times over before her spinning head could catch up. She had awakened to find herself wrapped in a blanket that smelled sweet and syrupy – she felt herself being carried, but the warmth of the person's body did not entirely shut out the frosty Narnian air around her…when she saw the unfamiliar face and screamed, a large, strong hand covered her mouth, causing her to inhale its sweat, and the voice that went with it told her to be quiet, or she would never see her family again…she awoke a second time to find herself wrapped in a bigger, rougher blanket that stank of horses and salt…she heard her baby brother crying several rooms away, and the ground beneath her bucked and rocked even harder that Father's boat had on the way up the big river to the border of Narnia…

"They drugged us and wrapped us in blankets so we wouldn't cause a commotion." Shen was barely aware of thinking the words in the first place, let alone saying them.

Both Cor and Aravis stared at her.

"You remember being kidnapped?" Cor finally inquired, almost eagerly.

Shen quickly shook her head, as much to clear it as to answer her brother's question. "Only a very little bit. Go on."

Cor shot her an odd look before acquiescing. "Corin said it must have been a wonderful chase. Father's ship chased Lord Bar's for six days and finally caught up on the seventh. They had a terrific battle that lasted from ten o'clock in the morning till sunset. Father's people eventually won, but by the time they boarded the ship, we were already gone. They captured a few of the survivors – Lord Bar had been killed in the battle – and one of them told him that that morning, once he realized he'd be caught, Lord Bar had given us to one of his men and made him sail off in one of the ship's boats. Father sent all sorts of people to look for it, but they never found it. But Aslan – " here he stopped suddenly. "Oh, I shouldn't have left Him out to begin with! See, He's the Lion – or all the Lions, however you want to look at it – who we kept on seeing while we were traveling here – "

"I know," interrupted both girls simultaneously, and they exchanged wan smiles before Aravis ventured, "We met Him just a little while ago, actually."

Cor's mouth formed a round, silent _Oh_ before he finally asked, "So He told you about – about being the cat and everything, and about blowing our raft to shore after we left Lord Bar's ship so Arsheesh – " he stumbled slightly over the fisherman's name – "would find us?" He directed the last question pointedly at his sister, who merely nodded and managed a quiet "Mmm-hmm."

After a weighty pause, Cor continued. "So that's really the end of the story – at least, as much as Father and Aslan told me."

"You met Him, too?" This came from Aravis.

Cor nodded. "He's the One who guided me over the mountain pass into Narnia after I warned Father that Rabadash was coming."

Both girls began talking at once.

"_You _were King Lune's courier to Narnia? Why ever did he not let you rest and sent somebody else?" Aravis practically demanded.

"How on _earth_…" began Shen, then shook her head, still in too much of a daze to say any more.

"Oh, I suppose I forgot to tell you that part, too. Well, once the Hermit told me where to run, I ran, and I found Father hunting with some of his men – only I didn't know he was my father yet, of course. They gave me a horse and let me come with them, but it got all misty out, and my horse was really slow, and I got lost behind them. And I came to a fork in the road, but I picked the one that led over the pass by mistake. And that's when Rabadash came along – "

"_What?_" exclaimed both girls simultaneously.

Cor merely grinned in response. "Oh, don't worry – he didn't even know I was there. I only saw and heard him from a distance. He gave some long speech to his soldiers telling them to kill everyone they found in Anvard but kill no one in Narnia, but luckily they took the other path, the one that led to Anvard. Anyway, after that I just kept going, and it got dark pretty quickly, so I didn't realize I was walking on a precipice the whole time. But Aslan, it turns out, was walking next to me the whole time, in between me and the edge. After a while we got to – talking, and by the time I got over the pass, it was morning, and He – He left to go somewhere else. And then I met a whole bunch of talking Narnian animals, and one of them was a stag who carried the news to Cair Paravel, and the next day King Edmund and Queen Lucy and their army came to the dwarves' house, where I was staying, and after that we all went to the battle. And this morning I begged Father to let me come here and see if you were all right. And here I am."

Shen, who suddenly felt oddly like bursting into tears, rested her forehead on the heels of her hands for a few moments and drew a long, steadying breath before looking back up at her brother and continuing with a slightly safer subject.

"I suppose the centaur never said exactly _what _we're going to save Archenland from?" she queried.

Cor shot her a slightly bemused look, then reddened a bit. "Well, see…Father and Corin and the others seem to think I-I've done my part already."

Shen returned his gaze with much more confusion until Aravis spoke up. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "I should have recognized it at once. Archenland can never be in much greater danger than it was when Rabadash had crossed the Arrow with his two hundred horse, and you hadn't yet gotten through with your message." She gave Cor the most genuine smile Shen had ever seen from her. "Don't you feel proud?"

"I think _scared _and _crazy_ is more like it," Cor replied wholeheartedly.

_Huh. I couldn't agree with you more. _

"And now you'll be living in Anvard – both of you." Aravis's face fell a very little as she spoke the words.

Cor stared at her in puzzlement for a moment, then suddenly and swiftly shook his head. "Oh, I forgot about that – sorry! Father wants you to come and live with us in the court – they call it the court, but I don't know why." Aravis's lips quivered upward ever so slightly at this, but she said nothing. "Really – you should, though. You'll like Father – and even Corin. They're frightfully funny, and Corin says Archenland is a very _cultured _place – although I'm not sure exactly what that means, but I'm sure you and Shen do – "

Both girls glanced at each other, which caused Aravis to break into a lip-biting grin. Shen merely shook her head and smiled. _Well, at least this is a much less complicated matter to consider than changing my name and believing I'm a princess without _any _prior notice whatsoever. Aravis may not be the sister – _sister_? Oh, bother, maybe this isn't so uncomplicated as I just figured – I would have chosen for myself, had I been allowed to choose, but I think perhaps she won't be the nightmare I had imagined her to be when I first met her. Besides, I suppose I could do with another girl around – that is, besides – _

"Wait!" she exclaimed, voicing the new rush of thoughts that had been nagging at the back of her mind ever since Cor had begun his tale. "What about our mother? Is she at Anvard, too?"

Her brother's face fell momentarily before he looked back up at her. "She died a few years ago." After a momentary pause, he added, "Her name was Cara. Father said you were named partly after her."

Shen's face fell as well. _Oh, blast…no, this goes beyond "blast it." I always wondered what it would be like to have a mother! Why couldn't I have come back sooner?_

Somehow, though, she managed to stop her train of thought, if only momentarily. _All right, you can think about that later. You know it will take a very long time. Right now, you need to be here for your brother; he can't be any happier about your mother's death than you are. Besides, if you think about it any more right now, you'll go completely to pieces._

"Shen?" Her brother's voice caused her to snap her head up and look at him again through newly watery eyes.

"I'll be fine, Cor," she answered almost mechanically. "It's – we'll – we'll get King Lune to tell us more about her when we get back there."

Her brother, whose eyes had suddenly become nearly as watery as hers, merely nodded.

After a moment, Shen noticed a clearly concerned but also very uncomfortable Aravis out of the corner of her eye. After several more, which included a couple of throat-clearings and an unconscious earlobe-rubbing, she finally forced herself to speak.

"I – I'm sure – you – you're still very welcome to come to Anvard with us, Aravis," she finally said. "After all, it – it isn't as though we haven't become accustomed to each other's company by now."

Aravis, relieved, nodded quickly. "As long as you and Shasta – Cor, sorry – are in agreement, of course."

"Of course," replied Shen after exchanging a quick glance with her brother, who apparently still did not trust himself to speak.

After a very long pause, the three of them jumped simultaneously as Bree's loud neigh carried across the enclosure from near the goat-pen.

"Oh! Bree!" exclaimed Cor. "I shouldn't have forgotten him! I suppose – " he looked at both girls questioningly – "I suppose we should go let them know about our plans, then?"

"Certainly," Aravis answered graciously, quickly springing to her feet and leading the way over to where the stallion had apparently just had another run-in with one of the Hermit's goats.

Cor hung back to help Shen to her feet. "Thanks," she fairly whispered.

The look he returned her said a thousand things at once, but it was the thought he actually articulated that enabled her to put one foot in front of the other as they slowly followed Aravis.

"I'm really glad you're here, Shen."

One corner of Shen's mouth twisted even as a tiny lone tear escaped the corner of her eye and made it halfway down her cheek before petering out. _I may not have known my own proper name all these years – or at least not remembered it. I may be a princess with no mother, and a new father and brother I don't even know. I may spend the next week, or month, or year, trying to sort half of all this out. And I definitely do not understand just exactly who this Aslan is, or what He's about, or why in the name of the heavens and the earth He had to convey us to Arsheesh, of all people, to begin with. Or, for that matter, if we'll ever even see Him again. Or how miserable a failure I'm bound to be as a princess. But – Shen, Shenari, Carisa, or Cari – whatever else I am – I'm still your sister, little brother._

_And I'm glad you're here, too._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please don't hate me now! I grew very attached to Shen during her journey to this point – more attached than I'd thought I would get – and even though I love her real name, I'm still a little bit sad at having to leave behind her old one. Even now, as I'm planning far into the rest of the story, I still think of her as "Shen" from time to time. However, please let me reassure you that the name change will NOT be accompanied by a personality transplant. Shen or Cari, she's still the same girl, and I hope you'll still stick with her and this story. **

**AUTHOR'S NOTE 2: ***CAUTION: NARNIAN MONARCHS AHEAD*****


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

By the time Cor and his sister had made their way over to Aravis and the horses, who had in the meantime been joined by the Hermit, the latter had calmed the troublesome goat again, and Bree had even recovered enough to apologize, admitting that he had perhaps overreacted a bit to mere friendly curiosity on the part of the smaller animal. This surprised Cor, who after all had not witnessed Bree's respective scoldings from the Hermit and the Lion, but it amused both Aravis and the elderly man. The older girl, however, could not manage to change her expression at all, not even when Cor and Aravis explained to the Hermit that they would be departing shortly for Anvard. It was only when Aravis pointedly said the girls should probably retrieve their few belongings (not to mention Cor's old ones) from the stone hut that Shen finally left her near-trancelike state and obediently followed the younger girl. Aravis wisely held her tongue, and within a matter of minutes, the two girls had finished packing their items and putting the room neatly into order. Shen briefly touched the beautiful embroidered bowl by her bedside before leaving the room.

Shen remained silent while she, Aravis, and Cor saddled the horses, who didn't have much to say either. It was only as all of the travelers exchanged their last words with the Hermit that she finally opened her mouth, and then only after the other five had all said their farewells.

"Sir," she managed in a not-entirely-steady voice, "I am most indebted to you for my healing and – and my life. I – I thank you greatly for both, and I – I wish I could repay you now with more than words."

The man merely smiled at her, a smile that softened his eyes into a particularly calm, grayish shade. "Your heart speaks with your mouth, my daughter, and that is a better gift by far than any tangible one you could give me." He bent just a little closer before adding, in a voice only the two of them could hear, "May the Lion bless you always with His gentle mercy. You will find that He never lacks for it." With the slightest blink of his left eye – _was that supposed to be a wink?_ – he straightened up and raised his hand to them all as they headed across the enclosure.

At the other end, they were joined by Cor's four retainers, who stood pillar-straight and bowed. Shen automatically looked at Aravis, who was just behind her, before realizing that the men were bowing to her and her brother, not the Tarkheena. _This is just too strange. Maybe I'm back in my dreams, after all._ Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her brother's red face, which more than anything else made her dismiss her last thought. _If this _is _a dream, Shasta and I – Cor and I – would have to be having the exact same one._

Once they were outside the walls, the two girls reached to mount their mares, but Cor – whose face had lost none of its redness – quickly explained that northerners never rode talking horses at all. "Well, except in battles. Or when it's life or death. For anything else, they just ride the non-talking horses."

Aravis looked as puzzled as Shen felt. "Wait. There are horses in the north that _don't _talk?"

Cor nodded. "There are animals of every kind that don't talk in the north. Father says most of them do, just not all of them."

"Oh," was all Aravis could manage, and Shen did not so much as lift an eyebrow. _So we get to walk the whole way – lovely. I wonder how many miles it is to Anvard. Maybe it'll be so many that I'll regain my ability to think straight before the end of it. All right, _half _my ability. Heavens, I'd be happy with a fraction._

But the ever-practical Bren would have none of it. "Well," she pointed out briskly, "seeing as you gentlemen – " she briefly nodded toward the four retainers before turning back to Cor – "as well as you, Prince Cor – "

Cor's face was now the color of the apples Shen and Aravis had so recently discovered. "Honestly, Bren, I'm going to have _everyone _calling me that now; just call me Cor, that's fine – "

"Since you five have your own horses," Bren went on, "why don't Aravis and Shen – wait, Shen, Cari, or Carisa?" She turned to Shen, who managed to take only a few seconds to marshal her thoughts before replying, "'Shen''s fine for now, Bren, thanks."

Bren nodded, giving her an understanding half-smile before continuing. "Anyway, why don't you and Aravis ride Hwin and me until we get close to the castle? There's no point in slowing ourselves down unnecessarily. Besides – " here she threw a slightly sharp glance at her brother – "I'm sure we can control ourselves enough to keep from talking within earshot of any outside travelers we may meet along the way."

Aravis nodded her agreement. "An excellent idea, Bren." She turned to Shen, who had returned to her immobile state after the few words she had spoken to the mare. "Shen? Shen?"

Shen finally looked around at the younger girl and nodded. "That's fine," she answered before mounting Bren – in only one try, to her own great surprise. _I would have thought I would have needed at least three – especially with all of these imposing men here. Oh, well._

Several hours later, Shen realized that she hadn't heard a word anybody, including the horses, had spoken. She remembered thinking that the landscape around her contained more shades of green than she'd ever seen, or known existed. She remembered thinking she'd never seen such oddly pointed leaves, either. She remembered thinking how much lighter in color these northern flowers were than their Calormene counterparts, and in a lovely way to boot – especially the pink ones with multiple layers of rounded petals. She even remembered taking a thorough mental inventory of every memory she'd ever had, or thought she'd had, about her childhood before she came to Calormen – a list that replayed itself over and over in one long, endless cycle of cycles. She'd even tried to remember more, but unsuccessfully. But if Cor, Aravis, or any of the horses or retainers had tried to speak to her, she hadn't noticed it.

She did, however, eventually notice her brother's arm waving obnoxiously right in front of her face.

"Morning, Shen!" His exaggeratedly cheerful voice gradually grew in volume – at least, according to his sister's admittedly unfocused ears – until she finally whipped her head around and very nearly snapped, "What, Shasta?"

Her brother briefly raised his eyebrows. "Sorry, but I didn't want Bren to just dump you on the ground before I'd warned you. We're near enough to the castle to walk now."

It took several moments for Shen to process his words, but when she did, she obediently slid off of Bren – whose withering look at Cor she did manage to notice – and turned to her brother apologetically. "Sorry – Cor. I was just – startled. I didn't really mean to yell at you, you know."

Her brother grinned back. "Don't worry. I'll just yell back next time." This managed to elicit a weak eyeroll from Shen, as well as an amused look from Aravis. However, the four retainers, who had dismounted simultaneously, stood by impassively at perfect attention. _They look scary when they do that – as though they're still deciding whether or not to pounce on me. _

Bree's audible moping, however, cut that thought process short.

"I wonder what else they don't do in Narnia that I've been doing all my life," he moaned. "Suppose you get laughed at horribly if you roll?"

"At least you don't have to get educated, like I do," Cor told him, rather unsympathetically. "You'll be running around the fields and hills, and I'll be doing reading, and writing, and mathematics, and astronomy, and geography, and all sorts of other boring things."

"Hey!" That much did draw a visible reaction from Shen. "You should be thanking your lucky stars, and all the – oh, whatever else there is, Cor – that you _get _to be educated! You'll get to learn all sorts of new things – and read books upon books upon _books_! I'd do anything to be you right now, you know – "

This brought about a genuinely bewildered stare from her brother. "But of course you'll be educated, too, Shen – Father said so himself. You're to be schooled along with me – and – and – " here he reddened again – "and Aravis, too, if she needs – I mean – uh – wants to join us." He was nearly mumbling by the time he finished.

Aravis's cheeks had taken on a slight shade of their own. "I'm sure we can settle that question once we are a bit more – settled in," she finally replied.

Shen opened her mouth, but her voice, after its sudden outburst, had decided to retreat again. _I get to be educated? _I _get to be educated? What on earth…_

_Oh, come off it, Shen…Cari, I suppose, if you're really going to be a princess. And if you're royalty, of course you're going to be educated. Look at Aravis – don't you remember everything she said about the medical books she's read? Of course she's educated – she's a Tarkheena. And since you're a princess, which is greater than a Tarkheena – wait, do they even have Tarkaans and Tarkheenas here? – well, the point is, if a Tarkheena can get an education, of course you're going to get one as well. _

"Great," Bree was muttering beside her. "Now that that's settled – oh, bother. If I can never roll again, I may as well do it one more time."

And without further warning, he mounted the slight rise on the left-hand side of the road and dropped into what appeared to Shen to be fifteen or twenty rolls combined into one before rising very slowly.

"Now I'm ready," he announced, holding his head forcibly erect as though for a funeral procession. "Lead on, Tarkheena, Your Highnesses. Narnia and the north."

Shen didn't know whether to laugh or grimace, but settled for not scolding Bree for calling her "Your Highness." _I don't think I could laugh right now if I tried, anyway. But heavens above, he did a wonderful job of covering himself with grass and dirt…wait, dirt…_

"Shasta!" she exclaimed, her voice activating itself once again. "It's all very well for Bree, but look at me! You have all those royal clothes on, and Aravis has perfectly lovely ones as well – " here she glanced at the Tarkheena, who was indeed garbed befitting her rank, since her peasant disguise had been ripped to shreds by the Lion – "but just _look _at these!" She barely followed her own advice, however; she already knew that her dull brown dress, which looked worn at the best of times, was distinctly the worse for wear after their long journey. _What if this king thinks I'm no more than the peasant girl I've always been? After all, he hasn't exactly seen me in fourteen years. And I wouldn't blame him a bit! Not that I care a whit about living in a hut and mending fish-nets, but I can't go on without my brother. I can't._

Cor, however, merely rolled his eyes most unhelpfully. "Oh, come on, Shen, it doesn't matter." Almost as if he had heard her thoughts, he went on, "It's not as though it'll make any difference to Father. _My _clothes didn't, and aren't you always saying they look ten times worse than yours?"

Shen could not dispute this, so she settled for throwing him a very frustrated eyeroll and following him next to Bren as the party set out again.

Once they had rounded the next hill, Cor immediately pointed slightly to their right. "See, Shen? There it is!"

Shen and Aravis both turned in the direction he had indicated. The high hill stretching before them wore a solid, multi-rectangular crown of mottled auburn and russet, an effect Shen guessed was created by differently-shaded stones. _After all, nobody makes a castle out of wood. Right? _ Its towers, if you could call the boxy outcroppings that poked up every so often that, appeared as solid and squat – and oddly _warm_, which was the only word Shen could think of at the moment. As the party approached the building, she noticed that there were several oblong slots at the tops of some of the towers. _Hm. I've never seen anything like that. But I suppose I'll be thinking that an awful lot in the next – what? Day? Week? Year? Several years?_

When she finally lowered her eyes, she finally found herself facing a gap in the wall surrounding the castle – a gap filled by two massive, unsurprisingly square doors the color of freshly ocean-washed sand mixed with a few hints of porous Calormene beach soil. The castle's sole outward concession to curvature appeared in the form of the black iron curlicues decorating the gates.

As Shen bent her head to follow the patterns, they suddenly began to thin as the gates opened, revealing a rotund man running out to meet them. He was dressed, Shen noticed, after the northern fashion, although his steely-blue-and-gray robes were splashed with spots of dirt. His hair, a dulling blond, was surmounted with a circlet of gold – _Wait. Is that really a crown?_

But before Shen's startled thoughts could regroup, the man slowed down a bit and caught his breath before holding up his right hand in greeting toward them. He first noticed his son, who was immediately behind the two retainers at the head of the column.

"Cor!" he cried, and the boy's face cracked into a wide grin. _Oh, you have _got _to be joking – never mind, every time I think that I end up being wrong –_

"Welcome back, son!" continued the man in a hearty voice that matched both his girth and his twinkling smile, as he unabashedly threw both arms around the boy, who reciprocated the gesture, if a little less enthusiastically. _Ha. If _I _did that to Shas – Cor, he'd shove me,_ muttered the ever-detached corner of Shen's mind, while the rest of it gaped in astonishment. As Cor broke out of the embrace to stand next to his father, the latter immediately noticed the open-mouthed Shen, who had just enough presence of mind to follow Aravis's lead and drop a curtsey for the second time that day.

However, Shen had not even dipped down all the way when she felt what was presumably the same pair of solid arms enfolding her against the king's sturdy bulk. She was so caught off guard that she barely even heard him exclaiming "Carisa!" over and over again. Instead, she somehow found herself back in her tiny room in Arsheesh's hut, pressed between the cold stone wall and the hot, muscular body of her assailant, one arm pinioning her hands while his legs trapped hers, the other hand ripping at her dress…

But even as she stiffened and pushed in yet another vain attempt to free herself, though, her assailant pulled away and became the king of Archenland again. And as he drew back, she noticed that he had not taken so much as a scrap of her dress with him. As her instinctive shaking slowed, she managed to look up and found herself staring into a pair of gray eyes – warm, smiling, and at the moment slightly confused gray eyes completely without the cruelty and leering she'd always seen in her assailants' – several inches above her own. They were as round as the face that, aside from a few wrinkles here and there, and with a bit less of a chin and belly, looked startlingly like – _I won't even say "It can't be" – not that my mind has the clearest picture of him in any case – but he does look like the large man in my dream…all right, so maybe it _was _a memory after all._

"Carisa? My daughter?" The king's concerned voice – which contained a note of kindliness such as Shen had never heard from any man, except perhaps Hashim – finally broke her trance, and she managed to look him straight in the eyes – which she now viewed only through the sudden thin sheen of moisture that had clouded her own.

"Y-Your Majesty," she managed, successfully keeping most of the quivering out of her voice as she bowed her head respectfully.

But the king, whose eyes looked suspiciously as though they themselves had misted over, quickly shook his head. "No, no, my daughter. You do not need to bow to me – and, to you, I am never 'Your Majesty'! I – " Shen thought she heard the tiniest hitch in his voice – "I would dearly love it if you would call me 'Father.'" He suddenly straightened a bit, looking almost puzzled. "Cor – your brother – did tell you that you are my daughter, did he not?" Both his brows quirked, his left more than his right, and that action in proximity to the mention of her brother's name made Shen lift her own brows ever so slightly in surprise. _Oh, my heavens…Sha – Cor looks _exactly _like that when he gets puzzled! _

Realizing that the king was still looking at her that way, however, she hastily answered, "Oh, yes, Your Majesty – um, sorry, Fa-Father." _That just does not sound right. I've called Arsheesh that for fourteen years._

_Well, count your blessings. At least you're well rid of him now. And this man, according to your own brother, is a much better one than Arsheesh. Besides, he _is _a king. You might try doing what he says. You might even try being polite to him._

"Um," she began before realizing she needed to clear her throat. _Lovely beginning, there._

_Oh, shut up._

"Yes, Shasta – um, sorry, Cor – told me, and was very – um – responsible in delivering your message," she continued haltingly. "I am sorry I am so out of sorts, Your Majesty. I – that is, _we _– were raised by a fisherman in Calormen, as I am sure he has informed you, so I am afraid I am a bit, well, surprised by all I have learned today." _And I am sure you are absolutely thrilled to have a daughter who is so articulate and well-spoken. Right._

But the king continued to look at her as though one of the gods had just agreed to give him his ten dearest wishes – and without constraints, unlike in the stories Hashim had told her about the Tisroc Tahmores. The mist in his gray eyes had thickened as she had spoken.

"Of course, my daughter," he answered. "Your brother has told me much about your long and difficult journey here. I have had your mother's rooms made up for you, so that you may rest as much as you wish today." As though he could not help himself, he reached out and gently put both hands on her shoulders. "She and I waited so long for you to come home, my daughter. Even though she is in Aslan's country now, I know she would be as full of joy as I am to see you here at last, and I have no doubt she rejoices as I speak." He paused a moment before adding, "As does all of Archenland itself. Though nobody could be as happy as I am to see you before me now, I believe our people will come close when I present you to them." He must have seen the confusion on his daughter's face, for he continued, "I am holding a feast tonight to celebrate your homecoming – and your brother's. Many of the people of Anvard will be there, as well as many of the nobles and their families – most of them you will see quite often as you make your home here. They are greatly looking forward to meeting you." Unable to contain himself further, he hugged her again, but this time more slowly. This time, Shen was able to keep herself from identifying him as an assailant, and this time, she was able to concentrate on his nearly-whispered words.

"Welcome home, my beloved Cari."

For once, even her churning thoughts were silenced along with her mouth, and she barely felt her father withdraw from the embrace and turn to greet Aravis. She didn't hear the words he used, and her eyes barely registered Aravis's flawlessly executed curtsey. She barely even blinked as she watched him address the three horses, although she did see her brother laughing as all of them tried to glance at each other surreptitiously, and failing miserably, before they decided seemingly one by one to proceed with a succession of completely uncoordinated bows. Even Aravis's mouth twitched furiously.

Still, nothing that went on around the older girl could touch her dazed, floating thoughts until her brother walked up beside her, deliberately bumping her shoulder with his.

"You all right, there, statue?" he asked, but his voice had more concern than cheek in it. "Or shall I say Shen-statue?"

His sister slowly turned to face him. "I think so," she finally managed, her voice still unsteady. She drew a deep breath before adding, "You might want to say 'Cari' from now on, though, since everybody else – " here her throat caught the tiniest bit – "well, it seems to make sense." _If nothing else, King Lune does seem to be very happy to see me, and he apparently has no problem believing that I'm his daughter, even if he does show it a bit strangely. I don't think he was even trying to frighten me; it must be these northern customs. In any case, as long as I'm to be allowed to stay here, I may as well agree to be called the name he gave me when I was born. "Cari" isn't so bad, anyway, even if "Carisa" does sound downright scary._

Without seeing her own face, she knew it reflected her confusion. But Cor understood and gave her one of his most genuine cockeyed grins, even as he bumped her shoulder affectionately again.

Suddenly, both siblings were jarred nearly off their feet by a golden-haired whirlwind with a fading bruise around one of his twinkling blue eyes. Cor, who received the brunt of the impact, barely kept his sister standing and almost went down himself. When he had regained his balance, he whipped around to face his laughing twin. _If I'd seen him closer that day, I definitely would have seen that. You'd have to be completely blind not to – they're more alike than my two little fingers are to each other! _

"Hey!" Cor exclaimed, throwing an elbow at his twin and missing, much to the latter's amusement. "Put a cork in it, Corin, that's my sister – _your _sister, too, by the way!"

The grinning Corin maneuvered his way around another attempted blow from his brother, planted himself in front of a wide-eyed Cari, and bowed. "A pleasure to meet you, sister," he said, slightly exaggerating his words. "My name is Corin, although 'Most Exalted Prince Corin' or 'Your Royal Highness' would work nicely as well – "

"More like _rude, blithering idiot_," interrupted Cor.

His twin's grin merely broadened. "Of course, if you want to call _him _that, it's fine by me."

Cari raised one eyebrow ever so slightly. "I'll be happy to call you both by your actual names, provided you call me by mine, and leave you to insult each other as much as you like, Your Highnesses. How's that?"

Corin grinned at his brother. "A bit uptight, maybe, but not quite a wet blanket. She'll do."

Cari's eyes widened a bit before she rolled them at him. "I'll _do_?"

"Well, he told me you would," continued Corin unapologetically. This caused Cari to grace her other brother with the only look that had ever made him shrink back and either shut up or do whatever she had ordered him to do that he'd been protesting against in the first place. A particularly mischievous glint entered Corin's eyes as he watched his brother seemingly shrink an inch or two in the space of a few seconds.

"I didn't _say _it like that," Cor finally protested. "I told him that you weren't a wet blanket at all, and that you're really smart and good at fixing things, like clothes and cuts – "

"Like the ones I'm going to give you teaching you how to sword-fight?" put in his brother.

Cor's face reddened for a moment, then he retorted, "No, the ones I'll give _you_. And the ones you'll get if you try to teach Aravis, because she's already been taught how, and she can probably – "

"I can probably _what_, Cor?" came Aravis's voice from just behind Cari's right elbow, causing the latter to start and whip her head around. The Tarkheena was staring at the twins with an expression that indicated that she had heard a good deal more than Cor's last sentence, but was still trying to come to grips with the uncanny similarities between the two.

Cor's face immediately reddened, and he said nothing.

"Um – Aravis – " began Cari, after a very awkward pause. "This is – um – Prince Corin, my – other brother. Corin, this is the Tarkheena Aravis, who journeyed with us from Calormen."

Aravis immediately dropped another perfect curtsey, which held even Corin speechless for a moment. Within that time frame, the king had turned his attention back to the four of them.

"Corin – " he began, but almost immediately raised his eyes to a point somewhere behind Cari. She and the other three turned to see two people about her own age approaching the party from the direction of the castle. As they got closer, her eyes widened and she let out a tiny gasp; the young man, whose dancing dark-brown eyes matched his hair almost perfectly, was none other than King Edmund of Narnia. The girl by his side, garbed in the most beautiful sunrise-pink dress Cari had ever seen, looked a good deal like him despite her lighter brown hair and blue eyes; their noses were nearly as alike as Cor and Corin in size and shape, and they had the same light smattering of freckles and the same slightly pointed jawline.

King Lune nodded to them both. "Your Majesties," he said, beaming, "you have already met both of my sons. I am now overjoyed to be able to present my entire family to you." Smiling at Cari with the same mindlessly happy look he had had upon first meeting her, he walked over and gently put his arm around her shoulders. "Carisa, this is King Edmund of Narnia and his sister Lucy. Your Majesties – my daughter." And even as Cari berated herself for the stunned awkwardness of her curtsey, she was strangely warmed by the king's voice, which reflected every bit of the joy in his face.

Whatever Cari had expected upon raising her head, it was not the beaming face of a young queen who would then swoop down upon her with an enthusiastic hug and kiss on the cheek, but that was exactly what she got from Queen Lucy.

"Princess Carisa!" the queen exclaimed in a high, girlish voice as effusive as her smile, drawing back from the hug – which thankfully was shorter and less engulfing than King Lune's had been. "I'm so pleased to meet you at last – Cor's been talking about you since he got here!"

Despite her shock, Cari noticed her brother's face rapidly reddening to a fetching shade of scarlet out of the corner of her eye.

"Let the girl breathe, Lu," King Edmund admonished his sister, even as he grinned and approached Cari, holding out his hand. _Maybe I should hold out mine, then?_ thought Cari and did exactly that. Fortunately, the king refrained from hugging her, instead raising her hand to his lips and brushing them against the back of it. "I am very pleased to meet you, Princess Carisa," he said warmly, smiling at the wide-eyed girl. "And don't let my sister scare you – she mauls loads of people like that. You get used to it after a while."

His sister threw him the same look Cari had graced Cor with only minutes previously. "Don't scare her off, Ed, she's only just gotten here." She turned and winked at Cari. "Actually, Princess Carisa, he's not so bad – once you get used to _him_."

Cari managed a very weak smile – _thank _heavens _King Edmund didn't recognize me from Tashbaan; I thought for sure he would –_ as King Lune introduced the two monarchs to Aravis, who greeted them with her customary curtsey and composure.

Suddenly, the king clapped his hands together. "Ah!" he exclaimed. "What a poor host I have become!" He turned back toward Aravis and the three siblings, but his gaze, which had taken on a new shade of eagerness, focused primarily on Cari. "Has your trip made you hungry? It is very nearly time for lunch, and I have arranged for us to eat on the west terrace, as it is such a beautiful day. Afterward, I will show you ladies – " he smiled at Aravis and Cari – "the castle, and Queen Lucy will show you your apartments." He held out his hand toward Cari. "Shall we, my daughter?"

Queen Lucy had evidently seen the confused look on Cari's face, for she immediately approached her brother and tucked her left arm into the crook of his right one as she smiled at the other girl. Cari gratefully managed a wide-eyed half-smile before taking her father's arm in imitation. _Lovely. I'm not even familiar with northern greeting customs. Or court greeting customs in general – maybe Aravis has done this loads of times. _However, as four blue-and-gold-liveried guards, who had appeared at some point during the introductions, bowed and swung the great gates open in front of them, Cari found herself too busy gazing at the courtyard before her to look back at the Tarkheena and confirm her suspicions.

Inside the gates stretched a wide yard made entirely of the reddish-brown stones that comprised the castle walls. Unlike the rocks that had formed the walls of Tashbaan and the tombs, these were small and cut into exact rectangular shapes, with thin white borders around them. They looked so similar to the walls that Cari's confused eyes could barely tell where the ground ended and the walls began. Even the boxy outcroppings built into the walls on either side of the castle's front door, which jutted out halfway across the yard, were overflowing with flowers like the ones Cari had seen on the way to the castle, were made out of the same odd materials. Similar structures were built into the wall through which they had just entered, and they also jutted out so far as to nearly meet their front-gate counterparts in the middle of the courtyard. Also lining the walls were narrow, built-in stairways that led up to some of the towers Cari had seen from outside.

When the party finally reached the castle's front doors, which matched the wall doors almost perfectly, the six door guards, three on each side – and also, Cari noticed, armed with the long, spike-tipped axes Cor's own guards had carried – bowed deeply and simultaneously swung the doors wide open. Cari and her father immediately stepped into the entrance hall, an expansive, pillared affair – made of the red-and-brown stones, of course – flanked with windows nearly as tall as Arsheesh's hut. Yet another set of iron-laced double doors stood at the other end, which was as far away as several of Arsheesh's huts put together. King Lune, however, led everybody off to a different door on the left, behind a large iron statue of an eagle. Another, smaller hall lay beyond it, and they took so many turns that Cari lost count after five or so. Finally, they climbed up a wide flight of steps with a door at the top that opened onto a patch of -- _more bricks, of course. But we must be on the roof of at least part of the castle._ And indeed, once they had gotten a bit closer to the shoulder-high walls around the edge, Cari could clearly see the castle's courtyard below. She only spared it a brief glance, however, for in the middle of the terrace was a long table flanked by intricately carved wooden chairs that instantly reminded her of the beautiful bowl in the Hermit's hut. The table itself was not only covered in fine cloths embroidered equally beautifully, but also laden with silver dishes full of breads, meats, cheeses, and all manner of fruits and vegetables Cari could not remember having seen before – that is, except for the apples piled atop a platter near one end of the table. A few people in robes that were clean and well-kept, but far less fine than the monarchs', were placing a few more plates at the other end. When they saw the party enter, they bowed, and, to Cari's shock, the kings and queen smiled at and even greeted them.

"My daughter," King Lune's voice interrupted Cari's perusal of her new surroundings, "would you like to sit here, near me and your brothers?" His arm, which he had gently released from her grasp, gestured to a seat near the middle of one of the table's long sides and directly to the right of the largest chair of them all.

_What? Is he insane, or is this another crazy northern custom? Everybody knows that when multiple families or parties eat together, the men eat at the high table, the women and children at the low one. Can it possibly be the custom here to seat everyone together?_

But before Cari could stop gaping and answer her father, the door through which the party had just passed opened again to admit three more men, whose robes were obviously fine enough to belong to people of some importance. One of them, in fact, looked distinctly familiar, and when King Lune made the introductions – each of which resulted in Cari getting her hand kissed again – he gave the man's name as "Lord Peridan of Narnia."

_Of course. He's the man King Edmund ordered to help him guard Cor when she grabbed him in Tashbaan. _Fortunately, however, Lord Peridan did not recognize her any more than King Edmund had.

After everybody had been introduced, they all, beginning with the three monarchs, seated themselves with Cor – and not one of the strange lords, to Cari's relief – to her immediate right. It turned out to be an even more fortuitous arrangement than she had initially anticipated, for northerners used their forks and knives more often than Calormenes did, and in different ways on different types of meat. Cor had already learned many of these conventions, so Cari glanced over to see how he and Corin – who sat on his other side – dealt with each type of food on their plates before handling her own. The meats and breads alike generally tasted a bit sweeter than Calormene fare, and were not quite as spicy, but Cari found those attributes pleasant on the whole, so whenever her father leaned over and asked her how she liked the food, which was rather often, she was glad to be able to answer him honestly, and therefore elicit that amazed, happy smile of his, which she had discovered she rather liked. _Even if I do find it uncanny having my plates filled and removed, not to mention my drink poured, by servants._

When everyone had more or less finished their food, King Lune sighed. "So," he addressed King Edmund and Queen Lucy, "we still have that sorry creature Rabadash on our hands, my friends, and we need to resolve what to do with him."

Cari shot Cor a brief, startled look. "What?" he whispered.

But before she could answer him, Lord Peridan spoke up. "Your Majesty would have a perfect right to strike off his head," he opined. "Such an assault as he made puts him on a level with assassins."

_He must not be dead, then. I thought the Hermit said he was. _

_No, he said he _thought _so. _

_Either way, though, do they really want a war with Calormen? I thought we came here to help them avoid that._

But King Edmund was apparently not thinking along those lines. "Even a traitor may mend," he was saying, his twinkling brown eyes growing grave. "I have known one that did."

One of the other two lords – _Which brother again, Dar or Darrin? Now I see what Cor meant about these funny Archenlander naming customs_ – had apparently shared Cari's thoughts, however. "To kill this Rabadash would go near to raising war with the Tisroc."

"A fig for the Tisroc," King Lune responded promptly. "His strength is in numbers, and numbers will never cross the desert." _Do you not _remember _Cor telling you that?_

_Well, that _was _a whole desert journey, a two-day illness, and several Lion run-ins ago._

"However," King Lune continued, "I have no stomach for killing men – even traitors – in cold blood. To have cut his throat in battle would have eased my heart mightily, but this is a different thing altogether."

Here Queen Lucy spoke up. "By my counsel," she advised, "Your Majesty shall give him another trial. Let him go free on a promise of fair dealing in the future. It may be that he will keep his word."

"Maybe apes will grow hones, sister," King Edmund replied. "But, by the Lion, if he breaks his word again, may it be in such a time and place that any of us could sweep off his head in clean battle."

"It shall be tried," King Lune decided. He turned to one of the servants. "Marek, friend, send for the prisoner, please."

A few minutes later, Marek returned with two guards in tow, along with a rather handsome but scowling young man with his hands and feet loosely chained together. He was dressed in lovely robes after the Calormene fashion, and they, along with his dark skin, would have given away his identity, if nothing else. _Oh, I _never _thought I would see him – especially not like this, _thought Cari, then winced as the man took one look in her father's direction and spat at him, although, since he had a very poor aim, the projectile landed harmlessly on the stones a few feet away.

King Lune, however, appeared completely unperturbed. "Your Royal Highness needs not to be told that by the laws of nations, as well as by all reasons of prudent policy, we have as good right to your head as ever one mortal man had against another," he said. "Nevertheless, in consideration of your youth and the ill nurture, devoid of all gentilesse and courtesy, which you have doubtless had in the land of slaves and tyrants, we are disposed to set you free, unharmed on these conditions: first, that – "

"Curse you for a barbarian dog!" Rabadash fairly screamed at him. "Do you think I will even hear your conditions? Ha! You talk very largely of nurture and I know not what. It's easy, to a man in chains! Take off these vile bonds, give me a sword, and let any of you who dares debate with me then."

Cari's already-widened eyes opened even farther at this – _please don't let him notice me; he looks quite mad enough as it is – _but her reaction to the prince's taunts was very understated compared to the reactions of the people around her, most of whom had sprung to their feet. This included Corin, who, turning to his father, cried, "Father, can I _box _him? Please?"

"Peace!" rumbled King Lune. "Have we no more restraint among us than to be so chafed by the taunt of a peacock?" Here he threw his son a sharp look. "Sit down, Corin, or you shall leave the table." After Corin had followed the example of the others and followed his father's orders, the king continued, once again addressing Prince Rabadash. "I ask Your Highness again to hear our conditions," he started, but the latter once again interrupted him.

"I hear no conditions from barbarians and sorcerers!" he spat. "Not one of you dare touch a hair of my head. Every insult you have heaped on me shall be paid with oceans of Narnian and Archenlandish blood. Terrible shall the vengeance of the Tisroc be even now. But kill me, and the burnings and torture in these northern lands shall become a tale to frighten the entire world a thousand years hence. Beware! Beware! The bolt of Tash falls from above!"

"Does it always get caught on a hook halfway down?" Corin asked, with a look that Cari, from her previous experiences with Cor, immediately and correctly interpreted as feigned innocence. The question itself, however, made no sense to her, and she threw a brief confused look at Cor, who muttered, "Long story – I'll explain later."

"For shame, Corin," King Lune admonished his son. "Never taunt a man save when he is stronger than you; then, as you please."

"Oh, you foolish Rabadash," whispered Queen Lucy; then her eyes went wide, and she sprang gracefully to her feet. So did everybody around her, and Cari did likewise. A few moment later, she realized why. The Reason for the sudden silence padded around the other end of the table into her range of vision, between the suddenly wide-eyed Rabadash and the table.

_And to think I thought I might never see Him again. I suppose I shouldn't have doubted Him when He said we'd all meet again soon._

"Rabadash," rumbled Aslan's deep, golden voice. "Take heed. Your doom is very near, but you may still avoid it. Forget your pride – what have you to be proud of? – and your anger – who has done you wrong? – and accept the mercy of these good monarchs."

Cari half-expected Rabadash to spit again, but instead he began to continuously roll his eyes and wiggle his ears. The latter gesture, which Cari had never seen before in her life, startled her even more than the mad-dog-like grimace into which he twisted his mouth. _Maybe he's trying to make them think he's gone mad so they'll send him back to Calormen without making him promise what they want him to promise._ And Rabadash's next actions did nothing to disprove her idea.

"Demon! Demon! Demon!" he screamed, spitting on the ground squarely in front of the Lion's front paws. "I know You. You are the foul fiend of Narnia. You are the enemy of the gods. Learn who _I _am, horrible phantasm. I am descended from Tash, the irresistible, the inexorable. The curse of Tash is upon you. Lightning in the shape of scorpions shall be rained on you. The mountains of Narnia shall be ground into dust. The – "

"Have a care, Rabadash," the Lion answered in a voice at once even and urgent. "The doom is nearer now; it is at the door; it has lifted the latch."

But Rabadash would not heed him. "Let the skies fall!" he ranted. "Let the earth gape! Let blood and fire obliterate the world! But be sure I will never desist till I have dragged to my palace by her hair the barbarian queen, the daughter of dogs, the – "

Aslan's voice, despite its lower pitch and volume, cut across Rabadash's like a ship across the wake of a tiny rowboat. "The hour has struck."

No sooner had the words sprung out of the Lion's mouth than the ears began to spring out of the prince's head. He had never stopped wiggling them, but now, to Cari's and everybody else's astonishment, they suddenly began to lengthen and flatten and turn – _gray? And is that fur? Oh, heavens have mercy, it is – and it's covering his face – oh, that doesn't even _look _like his face, it's looking like a – _donkey's_? Oh, no, his arms are – legs with hooves! And that's a tail! He – he _is _a donkey!_

And just as that last horrified thought left Cari's mind – just as Rabadash's transformation was completed – the prince himself seemed to recognize what was happening, and he twisted his donkey-head down to see his newly furry, four-legged form. Neither then nor afterwards did Cari ever forget him half-screaming, half-braying, "Oh, not a donkey! Mercy! If it were even a horse – e'en – a – hor – eeh – auh – eeh-auh!"

His ending bray was drowned out in the laughter of the monarchs and lords at the table – even Queen Lucy was very nearly giggling, and Aravis's normally stoic face had cracked an enormous grin. Cari, who didn't know whether to be disturbed, relieved, or amused, settled for a few nervous chuckles before Aslan spoke again.

"Now hear Me, Rabadash," he said, and the laughter – and braying – died down at once. "Justice shall be mixed with mercy. You shall not always be a donkey. You have appealed to Tash, and in his temple you shall be healed. You must stand before his altar in Tashbaan at the great autumn feast this year, and there, in the sight of all Tashbaan, your donkey's shape will fall from you, and everyone will know you for Prince Rabadash. But as long as you live, if you ever go more than ten miles away from the great temple in Tashbaan, you shall instantly become again as you now are. And from that second change there will be no return."

Cari, who along with everybody else was staring straight at the great Lion as He spoke, started noticeably a moment later, for no sooner had He uttered His last sentence than He had vanished. She quickly whipped her head around, but saw nothing except the stunned faces of the others – although the two Narnian rulers did not seem nearly as surprised as did everybody else. Before she had had time to wonder why, however, her father had spoken again.

"Your Royal Highness," he said, looking straight at the donkey, "I am most truly sorry that things have come to this extremity. Your Highness will bear witness that it was none of our doing. And of course we shall be delighted to provide Your Highness with shipping back to Tashbaan for the – treatment Aslan has prescribed. You shall have every comfort which Your Highness's situation allows: the best of the cattle-boats – the freshest carrots and thistles – "

But he got no further, for at this juncture the donkey brayed loudly several times in succession (in conjunction with a downright uncanny wiggling of his ears) and threw a tremendous kick at one of the guards, who dodged it just in time.


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am sorry for taking so long to post this chapter! Unfortunately, I have hit a bit of a motivational snag of late. This does NOT mean I will quit working on the story; I've invested far too much for that. Rather, in this case it means that moving Cari into a new environment and getting her adjusted to it has proven a much more challenging task than I had anticipated. She was so unfamiliar with everything she encountered that she kept on asking what all of these new things were (before she got too overwhelmed to ask any more, that is), and so I tried to write from that perspective, but it got very difficult at times. Anyway, if you can forgive me for taking so long to post this chapter, please let me know what you think of it!**

As Cari followed Aravis and a beaming Queen Lucy to her mother's former rooms – which adjoined her father's and were now to be split between herself and the Tarkheena – she couldn't keep her gaze from wandering to the woven murals attached to the bricks comprising the walls around her (for Cor had told her that this was what the reddish-brown stones were called). She had heard once or twice from Hashim about people sewing stories into cloth, but she had never before understood what he meant. Now, before here eyes, yards-long scenes depicted various battles and escapades made of soldiers, great lords and ladies, and all manner of strange beasts woven out of thick multicolored yarns. One in particular caught her eye, for it involved a man dressed in unmistakably Calormene clothing and flanked by his robed and turbaned guards. All of them were kneeling before a fair-skinned, northern-garbed queen, whose expression of courteous but genuine disbelief did not escape Cari's notice. Nor did the scene beyond it, which portrayed the seemingly-mismatched and now distinctly startled pair gazing at a great golden Lion. _At least I don't have to guess who _He _is._ As Cari progressed down the hall, so did the now-trio, this time accompanied by northern soldiers as well as the man's own guards, as well as a smattering of lovely birds with orange- and red-streaked brown feathers. Suddenly, they encountered a fearsome-looking Calormene wrapped in gold-trimmed robes of purple, black, and white, and wearing a crown that was such a deep shade of gold as to be nearly orange. It was twisted into a circle of twisted shapes that pointed at their ends. Cari wondered if they could be blades of some northern grass she'd never seen, but only briefly; looking at the man perturbed her.

_Where have I seen him before? _Have _I seen him before? He looks familiar…_

Then it hit her. _He was in my dream – no, memory – of the ship. He was with Lord Bar, and he pulled the stick – rod? – out of the little jar and chanted those strange words while he burned my arm…_Unconsciously, she rubbed the tiny half-moon-shaped scar, which perched, red as ever, atop her right forearm.

"Cari!" Startled, she turned from the tapestry to see Aravis beckoning from behind and to her right, where she had apparently missed the latest turn Queen Lucy had taken. _How on earth am I going to live here? I'll get lost everywhere I go; we must have taken at least nine or ten different turns by now!_

She hurried to catch up to Aravis and Queen Lucy, who a few scenes later made another turn and opened a door that led out onto a long, broad hallway whose tapestries, interrupted periodically by small wooden doors, framed a large double set decorated in an unusually intricate pattern of thin curlicues and delicate leaves and flowers, all crafted of the same black iron that had adorned the castle gates.

Waving to the two guards leaning against the walls, Queen Lucy marched up to the doors, graced them with a few light raps, and called out cheerfully, "Mara? Mariel? Are we allowed yet?"

Just as quickly, both doors were pulled open – seemingly by nobody, but even as Cari's eyes widened, out from behind each door appeared a woman clad in a royal-blue dress edged with light yellow trim. At first, Cari could not help staring at the dresses themselves – they were more fitted and less loose than either her rough clothes or Aravis's finer ones, and had none of the over-collars, hanging cuffs, and sashes so common in Calormene women's garb. However, she quickly forced herself to look upwards. Her rain-gray eyes met two sets of twinkling hazel ones, set in faces that were framed with curly, twisted-back brown hair and looked almost like the same woman at two different ages. _If they're not related to each other, I'm a monkey's ear._

Sure enough, Lucy introduced them as Mara and her daughter Mariel, who had lived in Anvard as personal assistants to King Lune's family all their lives, as had their ancestors. "In fact, you've met another of their family members already," she announced cheerfully, as both women curtsied gracefully to the three girls, "for Mariel's father Marek is one of King Lune's personal servants."

_Oh, right. He was the servant King Lune sent to fetch Prince Rabadash,_ thought Cari as she automatically dipped into a curtsey of her own. Both servants' eyes widened, as did Aravis's. _Oh, blast it. Was I not supposed to curtsey to them? I guess maybe not, since I'm technically higher in rank than they are…Oh, this is just strange. How will I ever get used to being a princess if I can't even greet people properly?_

"Also, their older brother Marcus serves Prince Corin, and their other brother Marcellus serves Prince Cor now," Queen Lucy finished without missing a beat, gracefully overlooking the red-faced girl's obvious error, but Mara was paying her no attention at all. Instead, her eyes, glimmering with a thin sheen of moisture, were fixed on Cari.

"Your pardon, Your Highness," she murmured when she saw Cari notice her. "I – I suppose you do not remember me…" Her voice trailed off for a moment, as if she hoped the girl would contradict her.

However, Cari regretfully shook her head. "I don't believe so," she managed. "I'm sorry; I was still very small when I left here last." She bit her lip apologetically.

"Oh, no, Your Highness, don't be sorry!" the woman was quick to reassure her. "You're right; you were very young, and to this day I have remembered exactly what you looked like the last day you lived in this castle. You see, I was one of your mother's personal servants."

Cari's mouth unconsciously formed an almost-perfectly round _Oh_, but she could think of nothing to say that she was not afraid would result in very awkward questions or tears – whether on her part, Mara's, or both, she did not know.

Aravis, however, rescued her. "You both will reside in these apartments with us, then?" she asked, clearly much more accustomed than Cari to palaces and their servants.

"Yes, Lady Aravis," replied the older woman. "We are greatly honored to have been appointed to serve you both."

"Your father has designated Mara as your chief personal servant," Queen Lucy informed Cari, then, turning to Aravis, "and you, Lady Aravis, will be served in a similar capacity by – "

She was abruptly stopped, however, by the _thwack _of wood against wood, as a stout, dark-haired woman bearing a fair-sized wooden trunk entered the room and caught an edge of the trunk against the doorway. As soon as she saw the girls, she immediately dropped the chest, barely missing her own feet and a startled Mariel's, and dropped a succession of curtsies.

"Your Majesty," she greeted Queen Lucy, then, "Your Royal Highness – Lady Aravis," to the two girls. Cari dipped down into her own half-curtsey before catching herself, but she did offer the woman a respectful nod.

"And this," Queen Lucy addressed Aravis, "is Treya, your chief lady-in-waiting. She and Mara are – " here she looked half-pleadingly at the latter. "I'm so sorry, Mara, you'll have to remind me again. I try to remember, honestly, but – "

"Oh, no, Your Majesty, please don't worry about it," answered Mara. "Remembering we're third cousins twice removed through our fathers is hard enough even for _me_." She pretended to ignore her relative's raised eyebrows, but Queen Lucy only grinned at them both before continuing to address the Tarkheena. "Bothsides of Treya's family have also been serving the royal family here at Anvard for generations. And speaking of family, Mariel – " here she gestured to Mara's still slightly wide-eyed daughter – "will be your second personal servant. And Princess Carisa, her sister Maria will be yours." She tilted her head ever so slightly. "I asked her to meet us here after her morning lessons let out, but I'm afraid we've finished lunch earlier than I expected, and Mistress Andromeda does like to make sure her pupils get all of their subjects covered – especially the geometry – so Maria may be a bit late…"

Here Cari's eyes widened of their own volition. _Did Queen Lucy just say that servants – _servants _– are educated here? No way. I imagined that – didn't I?_

_Sure, you did. Just like you "imagined" seeing Aslan on the water the night you and Shasta – Cor reached Calormen. Although this one does seem like a bit of a stretch._

_Stop it, Shen – no, _Cari_. You can worry about this later. How about you actually start paying attention to the people around you right now?_

"Princess Carisa?" Queen Lucy's ever-so-slightly concerned voice yanked Cari back to the situation at hand.

"Oh – um – I'm sorry, Your Majesty," she apologized. "Could you say that again, please?"

But before the young queen could repeat whatever she had said, another curly brown head with hazel eyes had appeared in the doorway. _Amazing. She looks almost as much like her sister as Corin looks like Cor._ The girl curtsied deeply as Queen Lucy made the introductions. Her eyes, which contained more brown than did her mother's and sister's, twinkled nearly as merrily as Prince Corin's.

Queen Lucy then turned to address Treya. "More clothes?" she asked, nodding at the trunk the woman had dropped.

"Yes, Queen Lucy," the woman answered. "And the last ones, too – I think."

The young queen grinned. "I should hope so, after the loads we brought up yesterday." She quirked an eyebrow at Treya. "Are you sure your back is all right? You should have told Soren and Theodore – " here she nodded toward the hall – "to make themselves useful."

"Oh, don't worry, they did," smiled the older woman. "This is only the second trunk I've carried myself today, and it's not nearly as heavy as it looks." She nodded in a half-circular motion toward the room around her. "Otherwise, everything is set up as you – and His Majesty – asked."

"Good." Queen Lucy smiled again. "Shall we have the tour, then?"

"Absolutely," answered Mara briskly. She turned to Aravis and Cari, nodding respectfully toward each of them. "Assuming, that is, that Your Highness and Your Ladyship are ready to see your rooms?"

"Of course," Aravis nodded, and so did Cari, who managed a "Yes, please, thank you."

"_Yes, please, thank you?" All right, somebody needs to grow a new tongue._

However, she quickly shifted her attention and for the first time truly looked at her surroundings, the most immediate of which was the large room they had just entered. According to Mara, it was called the "receiving room," and the two girls would use it to entertain their guests. _What guests? _Cari wondered, even as she stared at the particularly lovely tapestry scenes around her, which were woven more finely and of softer-colored threads than the ones in the halls outside. _This castle contains the only northerners I know!_

_Well, King Lune – Father? – did say he'd invited some nobles and their families to tonight's dinner. Maybe I'm supposed to entertain them._

_Entertain them? How? I don't know any of the northern customs of entertainment. I'm sure that, compared to Aravis, I hardly know any of the _Calormene _customs of entertainment!_

_Well, maybe she didn't mean I'd have to entertain any guests tonight. Maybe she just meant I'd be expected to entertain them in the future. I hope so, anyway._

Aravis's slight nudge against Cari's ribs brought the latter out of her thoughts long enough to follow Queen Lucy through an open door in the right-hand side of the receiving room, directly next to a huge fireplace. The second room was about three-quarters the size of the receiving room and a good deal longer than it was wide, and was draped primarily in shades of deep lavender and plum. These tapestries, like the ones in the front room, were woven with finer threads than the ones in the castle's main halls; some even had edges trimmed with intricate curlicues sewn in silver thread. This room seemed lighter to Cari than the front room, and it took a few moments for her to realize this was because the bricks had been whitewashed, leaving a clean background against which the colors could work their magic. And magic it was; Cari could do little but stand and gape at not only the room's walls, but also its furnishings – chairs and couches twice the size of any she'd ever seen in Calormen; tables with gardens' worth of flowers painted on their tops; footstools upholstered with white cloth and trimmed with intricate designs of silver thread; and several white stone figurines, mostly of birds and girls among flowers. Queen Lucy had to repeat three times that this would be her sitting room – apparently for use when entertaining smaller parties of female guests – before Cari snapped into focus long enough to understand what she was saying. Mara had to step in at this point and give the young queen a very subtle and very deferential reminder for the latter to remember to add, "Oh, thank you, Mara – I had completely forgotten! But of course – " and here she gestured to the lone set of standouts among the statues, a pair of large and stately eagles gazing sternly at a set of windowed double doors at the far end of the room – "the eagles guard the balcony doorway, as they do in the rooms of all the members of your family." She flashed another of her endlessly spontaneous smiles at Cari.

After the latter had nodded mutely, Queen Lucy continued the tour, which included a stop in a smaller room designated as Cari's study – which she briefly explained to the bewildered girl would be used for writing letters – before leading them all through yet another set of doors into a bedroom that could easily have accommodated three or four shacks the size of Arsheesh's. The bed alone, gracefully garbed in a swirl of amethyst, lavender, white, and silver, would have taken up half the shack's main room, Cari reflected as she stared at it, barely able to note the flowers etched in silver on the bedposts. The enormous wooden cabinets, painted with designs similar to those on the tables in the sitting room, would each have held the tiny, closetlike space she and Cor had slept in. When she finally forced herself to move her head – and that only because she heard somebody saying her name – she immediately recoiled, bumping into Aravis, for she had just seen her own face staring back at her from against the wall several feet from the bed.

"Oh, never mind it," replied Aravis when Cari apologized to her. "I must say, that is a particularly fine mirror."

_A _mirror_? No blasted wonder I scared myself! I never believed Hashim when he showed me his tiny little mirror that one time and told me the palace had ones that were the size of a grown human being. And I certainly never thought of one being attached to a table. If he were here, I would promptly apologize._

Eventually, Aravis was able to persuade Cari to move on, and the party quickly moved through the servants' rooms – which, Cari noted, were much larger and more well-kept than any she had seen either in Arsheesh's hut or Neresh's inn – to what Queen Lucy referred to as the "bathing room." Cari, who had only ever washed in the creek behind Arsheesh's hut for as long as she could remember, stopped in her tracks and dropped her jaw as soon as she saw the white stone expanse, which included two more mirrors, several washbasins and large tables loaded with towels, and what looked like two small, rounded boats built straight into one of the walls. Each one had a tiny, shiny gold eagle mounted on every corner.

_What on earth?_ thought Cari, before Queen Lucy's words hit her. _Oh, right. Neresh had a couple of tubs for his guests to bathe in; that must be what these are for. I've never heard of one being built into a wall before, though._

Around the corner there was a gap in the wall, a gap bridged by a length of very thick rope attached to two large handles. Queen Lucy said it was part of a system for hauling barrels of water up from the castle wells; apparently it saved a great deal of work for the servants, who otherwise would have had to carry buckets up the stairs. _Not to mention through the never-ending maze of hallways in this place, _Cari added to herself.

They proceeded out of the bathing room into Aravis's apartments, which were much like Cari's, except for their bolder burgundy-and-red-trimmed color scheme and gold, eagle-centered trimmings. And no bathing room adjoined them; apparently the two girls were to share the one Cari had seen. _As if it were too small, anyway, _thought Cari as she stared at the gold-wrought eagles carved into Aravis's bedposts. _I'm not even sure I could find my way back there on my own right now, let alone my bedroom._

Fortunately, Queen Lucy sensed Cari's overwhelmed state. "I know the king would like you to meet your ladies-in-waiting and your tutors yet today," she addressed the two girls, "but I don't believe he'll mind waiting for that until you have become a bit more familiar with your apartments, and your wardrobes – oh, and a bit of preparation for the feast tonight." She tilted her head slightly in Cari's direction, her brow wrinkling ever so slightly. "You don't mind if we go over those things now, do you?"

Even Aravis seemed to be a bit overwhelmed, for it took her a few moments to produce an unusually quiet, "No, Your Majesty, not at all."

The queen's face reddened with obvious embarrassment. "Oh, for heaven's sake, I forgot – I had thought to tell you earlier. We – my siblings and I – have always been treated as great friends by King Lune, and when we are in private, we call each other only by our first names, or else by title and first name. Please do not feel like you need to call me 'Your Majesty.'" Here her customary grin began to return. "I get called that more than often enough every day. Trust me."

Cari managed a weak smile to accompany Aravis's "Thank you," and Queen Lucy's smile reached full force.

"Right, then. Treya – " she turned to address the dark-haired woman, whose dimples clearly showed in her answering smile – "would you terribly mind taking Mariel with you and showing Lady Aravis her wardrobe and everything else? We can meet back in the receiving room in, oh, half an hour or so to discuss the feast."

Treya and Mariel nodded in almost perfect concert, and without further ado Cari found herself being led back through the maze of tapestries and tables to her enormous bedroom.

"Now," announced Queen Lucy, biting her lip ever so slightly, "I suppose that first we should show you your wardrobe…?" Here she threw a questioning glance at Mara.

The older woman nodded back, then promptly stepped over to the biggest of the room's three enormous cabinets. She and Maria each opened one of the huge doors, revealing an array of clothing in so many colors, Cari thought there must have been one dress to match each of the shades in the tapestries hung in the halls. _And there must be nearly one for every thread on those hangings – good heavens! Are they all mine? And how on earth will I ever wear them all? It would take a year even if I wore two a day…_

Queen Lucy's cheerful voice broke through her reverie. "Now, these are most of your clothes – I know there are a few more in the trunk Treya just brought up, and there are some more in that wardrobe – " here she gestured to one of the two smaller cabinets – "but they are mostly day dresses. You'll probably want one of the gowns in this wardrobe for tonight's feast. Now, Mara – " she turned to the older woman – "whereabouts did we put those ten gowns we were talking about? I know you hung them somewhere – "

Mara smiled and, with Maria's help, promptly opened the second cabinet the young queen had indicated. Sure enough, it contained even more clothes, although Cari could see that many of them were bulkier than their counterparts in the bigger cabinet. On one side she saw a brief swath of lighter clothing, which Mara unhooked from the clothes bar and spread out on the bed to reveal several dresses colored much like the flowers Cari had seen on her journey through Archenland. Each dress was made of at least three different kinds of cloth, from semi-transparent sea-green to lavender-and-purple brocade; each was adorned with beautiful patterns and trimmings, many of them worked in gold and silver thread. One, however, caught Cari's eye in particular. It was, as far as she could tell, the exact color of the lovely pink flowers that had caught her eye in the valley of the Winding Arrow. The skirt split in the middle to reveal another skirt in a deeper shade of the same pink, and the neck, sleeves, and skirts were all trimmed in a dark mauve worked over with flowers – _I think they must be the same ones the dress is colored after _– sewn in faintly glimmering silver thread. Before she knew it, Cari had reached out toward the lovely brocade of the overdress, her fingertips lightly brushing the surprisingly soft cloth.

"Is that the one you would like to wear tonight, then, Princess Carisa?" Queen Lucy's questioning voice finally made Cari reluctantly turn her head from the gown.

"Um…uh…yes, if it's…appropriate, I suppose, Your Majesty?" Cari finally managed. "I mean…Queen Lucy?" _ Right. Speaking of names…_ "Um, if it's not too much trouble, I mean, if it's all right with you, you don't really need to call me 'Princess Carisa.' I am only, well, just beginning to get used to 'Cari,' so it is perfectly all right…um…if you would like to call me that?" She bit her lip as she managed to look the queen in the eyes for a brief moment. _Oh, it is going to take me _forever _to get used to this. Even then, I'm not sure I should ever open my mouth around royalty…fellow royalty, I suppose._

But Queen Lucy's answering grin somehow managed to lift much of her unease. "Right then – Cari. You do like that dress, then?"

"I – I love it, Your – Queen Lucy. I – is it, well, appropriate, I suppose, for me to wear to the feast, then? I am afraid I don't know much about, um, different types of dresses and what kinds are, well, meant for which types of…occasions." _Now that I think about it, Aravis did talk a bit about having to wear "nicer" clothes for feasts, and "hunting" clothes for when she went outdoors…I wonder if they hunt anything here?_

"Oh, don't worry about that," Queen Lucy was saying when Cari managed to refocus her thoughts. "Mara and Maria have already separated your clothes according to the general type of occasion you'll need each one for. They simply set aside these few gowns in hopes that you would find one you'd like for tonight's feast. So you want the pink one?"

"Yes, please." Cari nodded quickly.

Queen Lucy flashed her another grin. "Lovely. So – right, then. Let's show you the rest of everything."

For the next half-hour, Cari found herself staring at more clothes than she had ever imagined possible, as well as coats (that was what Queen Lucy called the bulkier gowns), undergarments, shoes, hair ornaments, and jewelry. She barely managed to nod and utter an occasional monosyllable as the queen, Mara, and the bouncing-with-excitement Maria opened every cabinet and drawer in her apartments and showed her where to find the many things she was supposed to need. Just when she thought she couldn't bear to see one more jeweled comb or silver pen, she heard a brisk knock on the door, and in walked Aravis, Treya, and Mariel. At a nod from Mara, the queen suddenly remembered that both girls should have baths before the feast, and the whole party headed off to the bathing room, where Cari was surprised to find both tubs full of steaming water that smelled like – _those flowers in the valley of the Winding Arrow and – what else? Blue ginger? No, lemongrass – oh, in any case, it smells absolutely lovely. I wonder if it's what makes the water bubble like ocean waves._

Half an hour after that, their bodies clean and hair washed, the two girls headed back to their respective rooms. Mara and Maria laced Cari, still red-faced from seeing Mara and Maria's wordless reactions to the whip scars on her back and arms (Mara, despite a very concerned look, remained wordless but very nearly failed to contain her daughter, who looked rather like she would explode on the spot), into the pink gown. Clearly sensing that the girl was completely unused to dressing in anything except her Calormene peasant clothes, Mara gently gave her a few instructions about the process. While her daughter finished dressing the girl, she took one of the several silver brushes from the vanity – as she had named the table with the large mirror on it – and ran it through Cari's hair to work out the tangles before twisting half of it back into a knot of some sort. _Ouch…_ouch_! Some of these tangles must have been there for years by the feel of it. That, or I was simply awful at keeping my hair properly combed. Probably the latter._

The two servants had just allowed her to stand up and make her way toward the mirror when the door burst open to admit Queen Lucy, who had been shuttling back and forth between bedrooms the entire time.

"Oooh, Cari – you look _lovely_!" she exclaimed. "Here, look in the mirror and see how you like it."

Cari obediently turned to face the mirror and very nearly jumped away from it in shock. _Who _is _that? It can't be me! _But as she wrinkled her eyebrows exaggeratedly to prove her theory, the girl in the mirror followed suit. _Even when I did chance to look in the creek – or the washbasin – they never reflected half so well as this. And my hair – not to mention my face – _never _looked this clean! Especially not compared to what I looked like just an hour ago. I'm still paler than anybody in this room by far, and I still look far more like a pile of twigs compared to Aravis or Queen Lucy, but I suppose it's an improvement. _

"Do you like it, Princess Carisa?" The bubbly Maria finally could not contain herself any longer.

Cari turned at once to address her. "Why – of – of course, Maria. You – oh, and you, Mara – have done a wonderful job. I am very grateful to you both – and to you, Queen Lucy," she finished, unable to keep herself from half-curtseying to the latter out of sheer habit.

But the queen merely grinned at her again. "You ladies _have _outdone yourselves. She looks stunning. Now – I suppose she'll need her crown, yes? Oh, and her jewels to choose from."

At this, Mara nodded to Maria, who opened the drawers of Cari's new jewelry box once again, even as her mother took a tiny silver key from a drawer mounted in the princess's bedside table and opened a door in the wall that Cari had not noticed before. The door sprang open to reveal a set of drawers. Mara pulled out the bottom one to reveal a lovely creation of swirled silver and clear jewels that seemed to have been created especially for the pink dress, by the look of its delicate leaves and flowers, which were almost perfect replicas of the pink – _roses, Mara called them_ – that had so enamored Cari. Carefully, the woman removed the crown from its velvet-lined casing and placed it on the girl's bent head. As soon as she was done, she steered the girl toward the jewelry box, whose drawers Maria had opened to varying lengths so that Cari could see as many of the contents as possible. _Wait. I'm supposed to choose _one _of these dozens of pieces to wear tonight? How on earth…_

"Oh, Maria, not _all _the drawers," Mara admonished her daughter, seeing the look on Cari's face. "I think perhaps just the silver ones…" She immediately pushed several of the drawers shut. "Now, tonight's feast will not be anything international, or large-scale, like a coronation or a wedding, so I don't suppose she will need any of the more extravagant pieces…" She shot a questioning glance at Queen Lucy even as she shut a few more of the drawers.

Queen Lucy quickly walked over to peruse the drawers Mara had left open. "Lovely," she approved. "Cari, do you like any of the necklaces in this top drawer here?"

Given a much smaller group to peruse, Cari's eyes focused more easily, and within a few moments she had selected twisted silver chain adorned with flowers to match the ones on Cari's dress and crown; one of the flowers dropped below the chain, making it form a slight "Y" shape. Mara quickly pulled a matching bracelet out of a different drawer, and earrings out of yet another.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Cari apologized to the servant and the queen. "I – my ears aren't – " She gestured to her ears, which were completely free of the tiny holes she had noticed in Aravis's and Queen Lucy's.

"Oh, don't worry about it," the queen reassured her. "You won't look any less lovely without them." And without further ado, she and Mara fastened the necklace and bracelet onto Cari as Maria replaced the earrings and shut the remaining jewelry drawers. The three were just dragging Cari in front of the mirror again when the door opened to admit Treya, Mariel, and Aravis, the latter resplendent in a burgundy brocade gown trimmed in gold. For once, the Tarkheena looked nearly as uncomfortable as Cari felt; her left hand was surreptitiously fiddling with her sleeve, while her right fiddled with her golden necklace. However, she, unlike Cari, sported a set of gold, red-jewel-studded hair combs instead of a crown.

"Oh, Lady Aravis, you look beautiful!" exclaimed Queen Lucy, and then turned to the Tarkheena's maidservants. "Lovely job, ladies."

"You do look wonderful, Aravis," Cari echoed sincerely. _Much lovelier than I do…although I'd still rather wear my pink dress than her red one._

Aravis smiled, her discomfort showing again. "Thank you. So do you."

Queen Lucy, however, did not miss a beat. "Right. So now that we have your clothes and jewelry situated, I suppose I'd best go over the protocols for the feast." She hesitated a moment before continuing. "Now, it is my understanding from King Lune that the guests will be mostly local lords and ladies and their families – among them, you ladies' ladies-in-waiting." She nodded to Aravis and Cari. "You're both technically higher in rank than they all are – " here Cari caught Aravis's lips twisting into half a grin out of the corner of her eye – "so you will greet each one with a nod, like so." She inclined her head slightly but deliberately. "The polite greeting for such guests is, 'A pleasure to meet you, Lady Renna,' and so on, using the exact name by which the guest is introduced to you – am I correct, Mara?" At the servant's answering nod, the queen continued. "Now, the men will bow, of course, and the women will curtsey – is either of you familiar with the northern manner of curtseying?"

Both girls shook their heads mutely.

"Right," Queen Lucy continued. "Really, it's no problem at all – here, I'll show you – " She immediately dipped in a gesture marginally similar to the Calormene curtsey at which Aravis was so gifted. _Oh, bother, I wasn't even good at the type of curtsey I was taught. How on earth am I supposed to keep from tripping all over myself trying to do _that _in public?_

However, Queen Lucy quickly put that fear to rest, at least for the moment. "Now, you ladies won't need to actually do that tonight; I just thought you might like to see the gesture before a hundred people throw it at you." She rolled her eyes ever so slightly even as she grinned and winked at the two girls.

"Nevertheless, Your – Queen Lucy," Aravis spoke up after a moment, "perhaps we should practice, just so we fully understand the greeting." _Oh, come on, Aravis! I suppose you _are _right, but I really do not need to trip over this beautiful dress twenty times before the feast._

However, Cari's dire predictions ended up woefully unfulfilled, for she only tripped three times before mastering the gesture to the queen's satisfaction. She ended up being much more concerned when the two girls entered the receiving room and encountered a table set with a variety of plates, glasses, and silverware – and were informed by the queen that their places at the dinner table that night would be set just like the table before them. Before Cari had had a chance to recover from the shock – which by this time had become rather muted in light of the various overwhelming events she had encountered that day – Cor and Corin entered the room, along with the king and a stately, slender woman whose silvery hair perfectly complemented the gold trim on her blue gown. He introduced her as Morenna, their etiquette and protocol tutor. Judging by the icily perfect northern-style curtsey she swept both girls, Cari judged that she would be a formidable one.

Sure enough, the older woman immediately set to instructing Aravis, Cari, and the twins about the different pieces of dinnerware and when and how to use each one. By the time she had finished her hourlong session, which also included further drills on correct northern-style bows and curtsies (most of which Corin spent laughing behind his hand at the other three), Cari's head was spinning. _How on _earth _am I supposed to keep all of this straight? For that matter, how am I supposed to keep _half _of it straight? Even if all of the guests at this feast are lower in rank than I am, and – I suppose – aren't supposed to laugh at me to my face, I'm sure they'll be doing it all night behind my back. And that doesn't even count Corin._

However, Cari had no more time to worry about dinner table protocol, for no sooner had Morenna exchanged bows and curtsies with the group and left the room than King Lune re-entered it to escort the entire group back through the tapestried halls and into the castle's massive entrance foyer, which Cari dimly recognized from when she had first entered the building. Instead of leading them through the door to the terrace as he had before, however, the king proceeded straight to the double doors at the far end. The two guards stationed there swept into yet another of the countless sets of bows Cari had seen that day as they opened the massive wood-and-iron structures to admit the party.

The room that confronted Cari on the other side of the doors was very nearly as large as the entrance hall, and far more striking. Enormous, square brick pillars marched in two evenly-spaced rows up three-quarters the length of the room, giving way at the end to a set of broad, shallow steps stretching across the chamber's entire width. The resulting dais was flanked with two gigantic bronze statues that far outsized their easily eight-foot-high counterparts – mostly consisting of kings and warriors – mounted on pedestals in between the pillars. Cari briefly noted that one statue was of an eagle and one of a Lion – _I won't even say "It can't be" this time – _before staring in awe at the two enormous, square bronze chairs sitting squarely in the middle of the dais. Along the edges and arms, the thrones' intimidating solidity was interrupted by intricately wound patterns that looked surprisingly like the carving on the embroidered bowl Cari had so loved at the Hermit's dwelling. _It almost looks like bronze lace,_ she mused, _although I don't remember seeing eagles woven into the lace patterns on my dresses upstairs. That doesn't mean there weren't any, though._

After explaining that the two thrones were for the king and queen of Archenland to use when formally greeting guests without the royal offspring present, King Lune arranged his three children and Aravis into a row after consulting with Queen Lucy and King Edmund, whom Cari noticed had just entered the throne room. "I have just been informed that our first party of guests has arrived for the feasts," he explained, "and they, along with the others, shall be introduced to us by the herald – " here he gestured toward the same man who had announced Cor to the two girls at the Hermit's dwelling just that morning – "after which they shall approach us to be greeted in the manner Morenna taught you." Here Corin rolled his eyes dramatically, making Cor and Aravis bite their tongues to keep from laughing. "They shall then be escorted into the front hall by the servants, and after everybody has arrived, I shall lead you onto the lower east terrace for the feast." At a meaningful look from Queen Lucy, he added, "Cor, you shall sit to my left; Carisa, to my right; and King Edmund between Cor and Corin, with Queen Lucy between Carisa and Aravis." Seeing the bewildered looks on Cor's and Cari's faces, he added, "I shall show you the seats once we get to the terrace."

"If any circumstance of protocol should arise and confuse you," Queen Lucy put in, "all you need do is ask Edmund, your father, or myself." She winked at Cari, whose eyes widened for a moment before she forced her mouth into a smile. The queen's answering grin, however, froze for a split second and then broadened as she raised her eyes to look beyond Cari's left shoulder. "Mr. Tumnus!" she cried. "Come over and meet Cari and Aravis!"

Deeming it acceptable to do so, Cari turned around, and then very nearly tripped over her skirt in shock. She had thought the creature approaching them to be a young man with scandalously little clothing covering his torso, until she looked down at his legs.

_I've done it. I've finally shocked myself into hallucinating. _No _human has legs belonging to – is that a _goat_? _

It took simultaneous bumps from Cor's, Corin's, and Aravis's elbows to shake Cari out of her gaping-mouthed shock. She was already halfway into a very awkward hybrid of the Calormene and northern curtsies by the time she remembered Queen Lucy's instructions to bow her head to the guests, not curtsey to them. _And I can already feel my face getting redder than one of the Hermit's apples. Oh, I'm going to make _such _a wonderful princess._

Fortunately, however, her new acquaintance, whom Queen Lucy introduced as her friend and courtier, Mr. Tumnus the Faun – _oh, for heaven's sake. Is every single make-believe northern creature Hashim ever told me about going to turn out to be real?_ – took no notice of her etiquette error. Rather, he bowed deeply and, Cari thought in spite of herself, charmingly. And indeed, he charmed Aravis right from the start, which mildly surprised Cari. Learning that he had been among the party Cor had encountered in Tashbaan surprised her even more. _Cor saw fit to tell me about a talking raven, but not about _him_? Oh, well, I suppose he didn't think I'd believe him. Or maybe he'd seen so many strange creatures by that time that he simply remembered some and not others. Still, though…a _faun_?_

But Cari quickly recovered from this train of thought, for the rest of the Narnian party came trotting in behind Mr. Tumnus in short order. Cari's eyes quickly dried from excessive widening as she tried not to stare untowardly at any of the various animals, dwarves, fauns, and centaurs – _yes, they're definitely all going to turn out to be real_ – she met within the next ten minutes. She also had to stifle her odd impulses to laugh as the creatures dropped a variety of strange-looking bows and curtsies to her – and curtsies there were, for some of the Narnian warriors were indeed female. _I suppose it's another strange northern custom to have female warriors…although Aravis _was _wearing her brother's armor when we met her, and I wouldn't doubt she can wield any weapon a hundred times better than I can. Except perhaps a stone. But I don't think stones really count…_

Fortunately for Cari's sanity, other than the members of the Narnian party, the guests were strictly human. As a matter of fact, the first several families were apparently related to her – the first two very closely, as they belonged to King Lune's two older sisters, Lady Lara and Lady Lina. Both women were overjoyed to meet their long-lost niece and nephew, and also welcomed Aravis with plenty of good cheer. So did their husbands, who were introduced respectively as Lord Dorn and Lord Aren. Both couples, Cari noticed, were several years older than her father. _I suppose their children – if they have any – must be grown or nearly so._ Sure enough, no sooner had Cari finished greeting her aunts and uncles than she was promptly introduced to all five of her cousins, who ranged in age from as old as Cor to several years older than herself. Three of them were married, and two had children. Cari repeated each name upon introduction, both aloud and to herself, but only a few minutes later was struggling to remember them all. Following this, she met the lords of King Lune's privy council and their families, as well as the senior palace officials – many of whom, Cari noticed with a bit of surprise, were women – as well as her father's and brothers' gentlemen-in-waiting, along with the ladies-in-waiting who had just been appointed to attend upon herself and Aravis. As she had done with her father's immediate relatives, she repeated each guest's name aloud and in her mind, but by the time the introductions were finished, she could only remember a handful of them.

_Oh, well, _she ruminated later, after she had barely escaped tripping into her proper seat at the cloth-of-gold-laden table, having first tried to sit in the wrong one and being saved from complete humiliation by Queen Lucy's gentle hand on her elbow. _At least I remember the names of King – Father's family members. And I remember the names of my own ladies-in-waiting. Or do I? Let me see…Lady Bianca is the daughter of Lord Baran, Earl of the Western Riverlands; Lady Anya is the daughter of Lord Keppan, Count of Hetterlin in southwest – no, southeastern Archenland; Lady Tammah and Lady Takiel are the twin daughters of Lord Torlor, Duke of Kemmern in the northeastern mountains; Lady Isabel is the daughter of Lord Harlan of the Southern March – I wonder if she knows the Hermit; Lady Dara is the daughter of Lord Detrin, brother to Lords Dar and Darrin; and Lady – oh – what's her name – Ketria is the daughter of Lord Akor, Earl of the Eastland province on the eastern border…Wait. All of these girls are called "Lady" whatever their names are. And they're the daughters of men who rule in King – my father's name over their own lands. So I suppose they're not my servants. I wonder what I'm supposed to do with them, then?_

But she had no time to consider this question any further, for her father had risen to his feet next to her and loudly begun his formal words of welcome to their guests. As Cari's gaze could not help but wander to the monstrous brick pillars around the table, the woven iron torch holders mounted into them, and the now-familiar bronze statues built into the very bricks of the terrace beyond the massive tables, she missed hearing all of her father's words, despite her best efforts to focus on him. However, she could not miss the pure joy in his voice and in his eyes, which glanced at her and Cor every so often, as if her father could not yet believe he was not dreaming that his two children had returned to him. _I don't blame him. I can't believe it, either._

Nor could she believe the sheer abundance of the strange foods that covered the table – and her plate – throughout the course of the evening. She recognized all of the dishes she had eaten at lunch, but for every one of them there were two she had never seen. She sampled what felt to her stomach like dozens of meats and cheeses, breads and cooked grains with nuts, fruits and hot vegetables, and, last of all, sweet, sugary cakes the color of Bree's coat, along with rich, semi-hard creams in varying flavors, many garnished with berries. Queen Lucy, sensing Cari's awe, asked her a few polite questions, such as whether she liked the food, but seemed content with the other girl's courteous but brief replies and did not press her further – especially since Cari spent most of the rest of her time answering questions from her father, who was eager to know more about their journey. Aravis, however, who apparently had not been fazed in the least by the luxurious abundance around her, carried on a running conversation with Lady Lara, who was seated immediately to her right, for the duration of the feast. _I suppose she would be good at this sort of thing. After all, she _is _a Tarkheena. She must have gone to dozens of feasts and parties back in Calormen. And apparently, high Calormene dinner etiquette isn't too different from northern dinner etiquette, because she hasn't so much as fiddled with a fork, let alone nearly dropped half her silverware like I have. And I've tried so hard to remember which piece to pick up when!_

But Aravis seemed just as surprised as Cari by what happened after the feast. Her father stood up, gestured toward a man wearing a very small, very round black hat in addition to his blue-and-gold garb, and introduced him as Sir Tappan, the castle's narrator. Before Cari could consider the question of what a narrator was, Sir Tappan had cleared his throat and announced that he was there to speak the "Lay of Fair Olvin and Lady Liln."

_A lay? Didn't Hashim say that was a strange type of northern poetry? Oh, lovely. More strange proverbs to listen to._ But that half of Cari's first impression fortunately proved to be incorrect, for Sir Tappan's lilting cadences wove the most engaging tale Cari had ever heard – a story of an earnest, adventuresome young man who fell in love with a young lady who was captured by a wicked two-headed giant. He crossed mountains and deserts and had all manner of adventures – _Ha! His travels make mine seem like a walk from Arsheesh's hut to the shore!_ – before he confronted the giant in an epically ferocious battle that ended in the giant being transformed into – _Mount Pire? Is he serious? He can't be – oh, I suppose I shouldn't think that. I tend to be proven wrong lately when I do. Still – it _was _a wonderful story._ She clapped heartily along with everybody else when Sir Tappan finished his tale and bowed.

However, to Cari's surprise, the story of Mount Pire was not the last one told that night, for her father requested that Queen Lucy tell "the wardrobe story." The gasps of affirmation and delight from many of the guests intrigued her enormously, and she listened with bated breath as the young queen stood up and began to tell her tale.

By the end of the oration, Cari's eyes were nearly as wide as her mouth, which had opened wide at many junctures in the story. _They came to Narnia from a different country? A different _world_? Through a wooden door? I take back every single "Are you _sure_?" I ever threw at Hashim – no crazy-seeming thing he told me could ever come _close _to close to this outlandish idea! I suppose I believe the whole witch part – Aravis _did _say Narnia had been ruled by a sorceress of some sort – and I've learned not to say "I don't believe that" about anything regarding Aslan. But still…how could He die and then just come back again? Especially when Edmund was the one who deserved that – and _much _worse! I'm not exactly the world's most pious person, but I couldn't bring myself to even leave Aravis, let alone Cor, behind in Tashbaan – let alone hand them over to an enemy like that! And Queen Lucy doesn't seem to have held it against her brother at all – I saw her put her hand on his shoulder when she talked about him almost dying twice, and I saw the tears in her eyes. They weren't tears of anger; they were tears of relief and joy._

_Come on, Cari. Wouldn't you be glad to see Cor saved from death? Even if he'd done something really horrible? Even if he'd betrayed you the way Edmund betrayed his siblings?_

_Maybe. Oh, all right, _fine_. But Cor would never do that._

_In any case, I suppose I see what King Edmund meant when he said he'd known a traitor who mended. I did wonder at his proposing the idea that Prince Rabadash would go free, for fear of a second invasion, but I can see now why he did. _

_I still can't believe he did that to his family, though. And King – my father introduced him at dinner as "King Edmund the Just." I guess that title is supposed to be ironic. In any case, I wouldn't have looked at him twice, let alone taken a whiplash for him – let alone died for him! I wonder why Aslan did it. Not that I'd ever be brave enough to ask Him. _

_Well, Queen Lucy did say the Witch said, "So much for love," before she killed Him. _

_Yes, but how do you love a complete stranger? Especially one who's done the things King Edmund did?_

_Oh, come on, Cari, grow a set of ears. Queen Lucy says His Father, the Emperor-Over-Sea, sent Him to create the world – well, _this _world, if her story is true – and that He knows every person who enters it and everything that's going on. _

_Which is why it can't be true, of course. Everybody knows the world formed out of dust, and Tash rose out of the dust to create and rule over all of the other gods. _

_Right. And everybody knows animals don't talk!_

_Yes, but talking animals are one thing. This – idea – that Somebody actually made this world and – and decides to get tortured and killed by a witch He could easily have destroyed in order to save an idiot boy who betrayed his own family to the sentence of a violent, horrible death…is completely another._

But Cari's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a sudden flash in the sky and a loud _pop!_ Startled, she leaped nearly a foot off of her chair, especially when she saw the shower of bright green flames erupting, then fading quickly, in the sky above her. And she was not alone; several of the other guests had also started and emitted gasps of astonishment, including King Lune.

However, the king recovered from his shock almost instantly. "Well, my friends," he called out, rising to his feet, "my good groundsmen have apparently decided to begin the fireworks early. My sincerest apologies for the surprise, but I hope you enjoy them – Oh!" At a nod from King Edmund, he added, "Please feel free to move around if you must, but do make sure for your own safety not to go any farther than the edge of the terrace. Thank you!"

The guests applauded, but Cari was still too stunned to do anything but give a few weak claps and try to blink the bright green stain off the backs of her eyeballs. However, she was soon faced with a new vision in the form of a multi-pointed blue star and its purple twin popping up where the green flames had vanished just moments ago. _What in the name of all the gods in the heavens is this?_

Queen Lucy, who had immediately picked up on the astonished expressions on the faces of Aravis, Cor, and Cari, quickly touched the two girls' elbows while nodding to Cor across King Lune's body. "It's all right," she assured them. "They're just fireworks – it's a way of, um, producing small, colored fires. They only last a few moments, and they won't harm you – as long as you stay _on the terrace_." She threw a very sharp look at Corin as she spoke the last three words, to which the latter replied with an exaggerated eyeroll.

Despite Queen Lucy's assurances, however, Cari shivered throughout the entire fireworks display. The shivering became uncontrollable for several moments after a set of bright orange ones. _I don't care if they're nearly the same color as normal fires. They're the color of those horrible flames on the rod that man stabbed my arm with on the ship. These ones even have black hearts, like the ones on the ship did._ She deliberately stared down at the table for a full minute before cautiously raising her head to a more reassuring lavender burst.

By the time the last firework had exploded, even King Lune was yawning. He stood and offered his guests a brief farewell speech before turning to Cari. "My daughter," he asked, seeming oddly anxious to please her with the choices he offered her, "would you like to retire to one of the receiving rooms, or would you like to take to your bed?"

"I will do whichever is most convenient for you, K – Father," Cari replied, almost automatically, before covering her mouth to stifle a yawn.

Her father smiled knowingly. "I shall escort you – and your brothers and the Lady Aravis, if she pleases – back into the castle. Your maidservants will be happy to assist you in retiring to bed. In the morning, after breakfast, I shall show you all the rest of the castle – and I have some more of your mother's things to show you." His eyes crinkled once again into the disbelieving happiness he had shown all day. "I know she is just as happy to see you as I am, my daughter. And were she yet here, she would be telling me 'I told you so.' She always knew you would come back." He grasped her shoulder affectionately, and this time she did not recoil. "But come now. It's already well past Corin's bedtime." He winked at the latter, who exaggeratedly dragged his feet as he followed the party indoors. Cari vaguely noticed that all the guests rose to their feet when her father did.

An hour later, after a round of "Good night"s to her suddenly expanded family and an accompanying wink to Cor, Cari found herself swathed in a cloud-soft white nightdress and thoroughly ensconced in a veritable nest of bedcovers. _I can't believe this. I didn't think I would ever sleep on a surface softer than the plants I had on the cot in the Hermit's house – let alone this. _

_No kidding. It must be the biggest shock in the world to you. It's not as though you've had any bigger shocks today. It's not as though you'd found out you're a princess of Archenland, or that Corin is your brother too, or that you have maids and ladies-in-waiting…_

_Which I still don't really understand. Queen Lucy explained it a little – and I didn't think they were servants, anyway, I just didn't understand that they're supposed to be constantly entertaining me. But I was raised as a peasant, and a Calormene peasant at that – I'm sure I don't know anything about whatever activities are supposed to constitute proper court entertainment for a princess! Maybe those tutors Queen Lucy was talking about will teach me – but still, I'm sure I'll be the most pathetic princess those girls have ever heard of. I'm sure Aravis would make a much more suitable one. She wouldn't trip over her skirt trying to curtsey, and she wouldn't ever try and sit in the wrong seat for dinner, and she'd know exactly how to address my relatives and all the other important people here without staring and stumbling all over her words! _

_Too bad. You're the princess here, not her._

_Right. Just one of the many signs that I've walked into an upside-down-and-inside-out dream. I'm supposedly a king's daughter in a place where said king calls his servant "friend," where men and women dine together, where even servant girls are educated, where there are talking animals and half-goat fauns and dwarves who wear strange armor – a place supposedly created by a Lion instead of spawned from dust. And this Lion supposedly brought people here through a door from another world, and then decided to die in the place of one of them when he turned out to be a treacherous, murderous little brat – and then came back to life and killed the very witch who killed Him. And somewhere in the middle of all of this He took a few minutes to walk across an ocean and blow Cor and me out of a shipwreck into Calormen. And then He alternately scared and guided and chased us here so we could – well, so _Cor _could – save Archenland from Prince Rabadash and his crazy invasion. _

_Wait. Cor said the prophecy said _both _of us would save Archenland – and from "dangers," – plural, not singular. Did all of this count as two dangers? I mean, technically Prince Rabadash did attack Anvard twice. That makes sense if I'm considered as having helped out somehow – although I don't see how I did. Cor was the one who ran and warned King – Father while I fainted next to the Hermit's front gate. Even Bree, for all his blustering, got farther on his own feet than I did._

_Bree…wait, he's in the stables, isn't he? I'm sure I remember Kin – Father mentioning the castle's stables during lunch. I hope he and Bren and Hwin are happy there. I should have visited them tonight. I guess I'll go there the first chance I get tomorrow. It would be lovely if they decided to stay here instead of going on to Narnia!_

_Don't be an idiot, Cari. They were all born in Narnia, and they all got kidnapped from there. They're Narnians, not Archenlanders. Of course they'll return there._

_I still wish they wouldn't, though. They're the only ones I really know here, besides Aravis and Cor._

_Oh, for heaven's sake! You're not actually complaining about being able to live in a castle, are you? Not to mention having servants to help you get used to life here, and an extra brother and sister, and a family full of relatives you never knew, complete with a father who doesn't beat you?_

_Well, he hasn't beaten me _yet_. What if he's just acting nice? Tiva back in Arsheesh's village could be very sweet until you got on her bad side; then she'd give you all manner of abuse._

_Well, Cor's been here longer than you have, and he's obviously very happy. Maybe life here is actually better – shocker, I know! – than life with Arsheesh in Calormen._

_Right. That wouldn't exactly take much._

_Oh, get off it. You're missing the point, which is that you might actually _like _being a princess if you get used to it._

If _I get used to it. And if I don't wake up tomorrow back in Calormen – or out in the desert – to find out that I'm not a princess. And animals don't talk. And I never saw a Lion, or at least one that doesn't want to eat me. And the world wasn't breathed into being by one. And I don't have a family besides Cor. And I can still find statues of Tash and Zardeenah and Ketzin. And there's no prophecy that says I, of all people, will help save a far-off northern country that might or might not exist. And I haven't traveled through deserts and Lion encounters and strange cities only to find out that the mother I used to wonder about – when I could bring myself to believe I might have different parents than Arsheesh after all – died before I could get to know her._

For the first time since the night she'd met Bree and Bren, Cari let her sudden tears become a symphony of sobs to whose tune she slowly and reluctantly fell fast asleep.


	20. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: As those of you who have read **_**The Horse and His Boy **_**know, I am now writing beyond the end of the book (well, technically, beyond all but the last few epilogue-ish paragraphs), so I am officially in uncharted territory. This means, among other things, that I can finally introduce Peter, who does not appear in the book. Now, don't set off the fireworks just yet – his part in the story, although it will of course be a very large one, hasn't quite begun yet. However, it will, and shortly; that much I promise you. I can't tell you how much I appreciate your patience and your willingness to stick with Cari during her transformation from Shen the Calormene peasant girl to the Princess Carisa who is finally ready to meet Narnia's High King.**

Despite her doubts, Cari awoke the following morning tangled up in the very same, very real mountain of bedclothes she had fallen asleep in the previous night. After a few blinks and an earlobe-rub or two – which awakened her as well as a pinch would have done, considering how sore the lobe was from her unconscious rubbings the day before – she finally sat up and began to extricate herself from her lavender-and-cream bonds. However, no sooner had she completed the task when Mara and Maria popped in through the door that connected her room to the smaller chamber Maria shared with Mariel and Treya (Mara shared a room with her husband close by, in King Lune's quarters).

"Good morning, Princess Carisa!" they greeted her simultaneously as they dropped a pair of flawless curtsies – although Cari couldn't help but think their gestures were different from the curtsey she had been taught by Queen Lucy the previous evening. _At this point, though, I wouldn't exactly trust my memory – or any part of my own mind, for that matter. Let me see – can I even remember how that one goes?_

As it turned out, she could, but a stifled giggle from Maria, cut off by a withering look from her mother, sharply reminded Cari of Queen Lucy's instructions that she need only incline her head to anyone below her in rank. _Oops._ "Oh – I'm sorry about that," she managed quickly as she rapidly produced the proper gesture.

"No need, Princess Carisa," Mara assured her smoothly. "You have been exposed to a great many new customs in less than a day." After a very slight pause, she added, "Your father mentioned that your brother Cor has highly praised your intellectual abilities, so I am sure you will find yourself more than capable of mastering all you learn."

_Master all I learn? Right. I can't even keep two vastly different gestures of greeting straight! And I can barely remember the names of my own cousins and ladies-in-waiting, let alone deal with everything Cor said our tutors would teach us. I haven't even scratched the surface of what I'm going to be expected to learn, for Tash's sake!_

Mara correctly interpreted the look of panic on her new mistress's face, and her own softened as she tilted her head ever so slightly and graced the girl with a soft, reassuring smile. "It will get easier, Princess Carisa. You will find you are capable of more than you think."

Cari managed to bite her lip in a pitiful imitation of a smile, then nodded again. "Um – thank you, Mara. Um – speaking of which…is there a protocol that dictates what I must do after getting out of bed in the morning?"

Mara's answering smile was almost as big as her daughter's. "That is why we're here, Your Highness." Turning to her daughter, she raised one eyebrow meaningfully. "Maria?"

The young girl's face reddened for a few moments before she dropped another curtsey to Cari. "We have poured your washbasin for you, Your Highness, and removed a set of dresses for you to choose from today."

_My washbasin? Oh, right._ Cari glanced to the left of her bed, where a few feet away on a white wooden table perched a lovely carved white basin and matching pitcher. Both were indeed filled with water, but it took Cari a few moments to recognize the rounded pink and mauve objects floating on the surfaces in both vessels. _Wait…those must be petals from the roses I've been seeing so much of here. They weren't in my wash-water last night, though. Last night it had bits of lemongrass. Hm. It must be another point of castle protocol._

Almost before Cari had noticed her absence, Maria had rushed out of the room and returned with yet another pitcher, from which she poured more water into Cari's basin and pitcher. Seeing the girl's puzzled expression, Mara explained that her daughter had just retrieved hot water from the bathing room in order to warm the princess's wash water to a more comfortable temperature.

"Oh – thank you very much, then." Cari even managed a smile and a nod to accompany her expression of gratitude. This time, Maria's ears reddened slightly at the tips before she curtsied in reply.

"Right, then," put in Mara. "Before we begin your washing, though, there is one more point we should clear up with you." Her head bobbed slightly, and her voice took on a tone that was an odd mix of instructional and deferential as she continued. "My daughter and I would be very grateful if you would allow us to know how you would best like us to address you. Of course, your station dictates that you be called either 'Your Highness' or 'Princess Carisa.' However, your royal mother, Aslan rest her, preferred other modes of address. Therefore, we would be happy to know what you most prefer so that we may make you as comfortable as possible in your new surroundings." Here she bobbed her head again before she fell silent.

"_Other modes of address?" Heavens help me. I can't speak half as elegantly as Mara can. How am I ever going to – oh, that's not the point, Cari. She asked you what you'd like to be called, which means you actually get to tell her that being called "Your Highness" makes you squirm._

"Oh – well, thank you very much, Mara – and Maria," she managed. "Um – actually, though, if it's not too much trouble – wait, what did my mother ask to be called?" She directed the last question at Mara, as an almost plaintive note entered her voice.

Mara's answering smile was soft and understanding. "She asked to be called 'Lady Cara.' That was her rank before she married your father."

"Lady of where?" came out of Cari's mouth before she could think twice. Her face abruptly reddened. "I'm sorry, Mara, I meant – where was she from?"

Mara's smile softened even further. "She was the daughter of the Baron of Lohm," she explained, then, seeing Cari's confusion, clarified, "A sector of the Middle Arrow province between here and the western borderlands. It is named after the city of Lohm, which takes up much of the region he was in charge of."

"I see," answered Cari after a brief pause. "Did she have any family – I mean, do I have any aunts or uncles or cousins on her side?"

Mara's smile dimmed a bit then. "No," she answered, almost regretfully. "She was her parents' only child; her mother – your grandmother, the Lady Larisa – died giving birth to her. Her father never remarried."

A second "I see" was all Cari could think to produce for a few moments, until – "Wait; you said my grandmother's name was Larisa?" At Mara's nod, she continued, "Then – was I named after her as well? I mean, I know I was named after my mother – Cor told me so – but my name and my grandmother's are almost exactly the same."

Mara's smile returned at this. "Yes," she answered. "You were. And your brother was quite right – you are very quick in the uptake."

Cari's brow furrowed. "Quick in the uptake?"

"It means that you are very clever," Maria's cheerful voice piped up. "Your Highness," she added quickly.

Cari's mouth immediately twisted in half-embarrassment, half-amusement. "Oh, right. I'm sorry – I never answered your question properly." She reddened slightly before continuing. "I am only just getting used to the short form of my name, let alone my full one, so I suppose – well, seeing as how I was never technically 'Lady' anything – right?" She glanced inquiringly at Mara, who nodded. "So how about 'Princess Cari'?"

Both servants nodded deferentially. "Very good, Princess Cari," Mara replied. "Now, your father has asked that you join him at breakfast, and it is very nearly time for him to dine. Would you like to choose today's dress now?"

Cari agreed, and fortunately the two servants had picked out just a few of what they called "day dresses" for her to choose from rather than confronting her with her entire wardrobe. Therefore, it took only a quarter of an hour to wash and get dressed in a lovely linen creation made of several shades of sky blue and trimmed with curling designs worked in dark blue thread. Maria seemed particularly delighted with Cari's choice; as she exuberantly informed the princess, she loved the color blue, especially light blue. This elicited a sharp look from her mother, who along with the younger girl was of course garbed in the royal blue and gold of the palace servants. Cari, however, merely grinned. _She's really rather like a girl version of Corin – well, not that bad. Maybe a combination of Cor and Corin. I always did wonder what it would be like to have a little sister._

_Good morning, genius. With Aravis here, you _do _have a younger sister._

Eventually the two servants led Cari out to the apartments' receiving room to meet up with Corin, Cor, and Aravis, who was resplendent in a deep blue gown trimmed with gold fabric and thread. Brock, an older man whom Mara had told the girls was one of the general household servants rather than a personal servant to any member of the royal family, led the four of them through the tapestried halls, down a broad brick staircase, and into the castle's entrance hall. He then opened a door Cari had not noticed the previous day – _I suspect there are rather a lot of doors and halls I didn't notice yesterday _– and straight into an enormous room whose tapestries largely portrayed scenes of feasts and harvests. Even the now-familiar bronze statues portrayed farmers harvesting crops.

Seeing Cari's and Aravis's wide-eyed faces, Brock quickly explained that the table-studded room was known as the "great hall," and was where the king held his dinners and suppers. "But if you will follow me now," he continued, "I shall lead you to the room where His Majesty breaks his morning fasts."

So saying, he opened a set of wooden doors at the near end of the hall. It led into a very short hallway, which in turn ended in yet another pair of doors. On the other side of these, Cari saw a room perhaps a quarter the size of the great hall. It had but two tables, and at one of them sat her father, along with King Edmund and Queen Lucy.

The young queen, however, did not remain seated for long; almost before Cari had realized it, she was being engulfed in yet another hug, accompanied by a squeal of delight and a decidedly cheerful, "Good morning, Cari!"

"Um – good morning, Queen Lucy," Cari replied, once she was able to speak again. She quickly dropped a curtsey to the queen, then reddened instantly as she realized she had just greeted a queen of Narnia in the Calormene fashion.

"Oh, Your – Queen Lucy, I'm really sorry!" she stammered before bending in the proper fashion, although very clumsily.

The other girl, however, merely laughed merrily, and, despite her surprise, Cari somehow did not feel at all laughed at.

"Oh, don't think of it," Queen Lucy told her. "It's not as though you haven't enough to remember already. Anyway – " here she glanced mischievously at her brother – "it's not as though you'd done something really horrible, like call Edmund 'Ed.' He might actually have to haul you to trial then."

During the brief half-second it took the wide-eyed Cari to understand that Queen Lucy was in fact joking, King Edmund rolled his eyes at his sister, then pulled one of the straightest faces Cari had ever seen.

"Oh, come on, Lu, that's a perfectly pathetic threat," he said, then looked straight at Cari. "See, what she _should _have said is that you could have done something really horrible like call our brother 'Pete.' He'd practically have your head on a platter for that one."

Behind Cari, Corin and Cor both began snickering loudly, but much of the humor was lost on Cari, whose wide eyes failed for several moments to notice the twinkling in the young king's before she found herself engulfed again in her father's warm, sturdy arms.

"Good morning, my daughter," he greeted her, kissing her on the cheek. "A better one, I think, than my fine friends here are making it out to be. In fact, one would be hard-pressed to find a man of fairer and more agreeable temperament than the High King." He smiled at her reassuringly before turning and greeting his sons and Aravis.

Within a few minutes, Cari found herself seated once again between her father and Queen Lucy, and enjoying a singularly heavenly dish made out of cut meats, just-melted yellow cheeses, and what the young queen called "scrambled eggs." _Hmm. We did cook eggs back in Calormen, but never this way. If only for culinary reasons, our trip here has already proven quite a success – oh, blast it, I think I picked up the wrong fork again._

Fortunately, nobody at the table seemed much concerned with Cari's (and Cor's) occasional lapses in table protocol, and soon they found themselves discussing the Narnian party's impending departure, which was to take place the following morning.

"I wish we did not have to depart so soon, of course," Queen Lucy addressed King Lune, and then added to Cor, Cari, and Aravis, "especially after we've just met all of you. However, Peter should be arriving back at Cair Paravel any day now, and we all four have some treaty issues to work on after that, and then there's the midsummer festival – oh, right!" Her smile widened into a pure grin as she clapped her hands together once and turned to address King Lune. "Lune, wouldn't you love to come to the festival this year? It's been ages since you've been to one, and you could bring Cor and Aravis and Cari along and introduce them to Peter and Susan – they would _love _to meet them – "

"Whereas Corin's merely an unwanted piece of driftwood," broke in Edmund dryly, although Cari, across the table from him, could see his brown eyes twinkling merrily. Corin merely made a face at him.

King Lune opened his mouth, presumably to reprimand his son, but before he could do so, Queen Lucy, whose head was turned away from him at the moment, spoke up first. "Well, if we _must _invite him…" she began, winking at Corin, who rolled his eyes. But the queen had already turned back to the boy's father. "Really," she continued, "we would love to have you all – especially since Ed and I have only just met Aravis and Cor and Cari." Even as the king half-opened his mouth, Queen Lucy rushed on. "Please at least consider it, Lune. We'd have so much fun!" She looked practically ready to bounce up and down in her chair with excitement by the time she finished, and Cari could not help but think of Maria. _Those two should be related. I wonder how anybody could ever refuse either one of them._

"Careful, there, Lune," King Edmund deadpanned. "You know Lucy; she'll try anything to get more guests to come to her birthday party so she can get more presents…"

This earned him an eyeroll from his sister, whose subtly jabbed elbow he barely managed to dodge before cracking a wide and, Cari thought, downright devilish grin.

"Actually," Queen Lucy addressed King Lune sweetly, "I was just about to say that I have loved, though never expected, any of the lovely birthday gifts you have sent me, and again I do not expect you to provide this year. However, were you to bring your family to either celebration, let alone both, I would consider it the most wonderful birthday gift I have ever received from Archenland."

"And I shall be happy to consider it," King Lune replied, looking relieved to have finally gotten a word in edgewise. "However, I must consult with my advisors first, to ensure that I am able to make the journey at that time. You shall have my answer by the time you leave tomorrow morning."

This proved agreeable to both Narnian monarchs, and a very happy Queen Lucy spent much of the remainder of the meal describing the traditional Narnian Midsummer festival to Corin's slightly confused siblings. "We have celebrations on Midsummer Day _and _Midsummer Eve, actually," she explained. "On Midsummer Eve we have the blackberry mead-making – well, actually, Peter and Susan and Edmund do that, since I'm not old enough to have any; I take care of the blackberry juice for the children – and we only eat crackerbread and drink watered wine for supper. Then, at midnight, everybody goes to the ocean to hear the mermaids sing. On Midsummer Day, we have all sorts of games and races on the lawn in the morning and afternoon. Then we have the Midsummer feast and drink the blackberry mead – well, juice in my case – " Here she paused long enough to roll her eyes ever so slightly at her brother.

King Edmund, however, merely raised his eyebrows. "Oh, don't look at me like that, Lu. Peter and Susan are the ones who won't let you have the mead, not me, and I didn't get to have it till I was eighteen either – "

"Yes, but you had just turned eighteen," his sister reminded him, "and I'll only be a few days shy this year." As her brother held up both hands palms forward in the _don't-blame-me_ gesture Cari had seen a hundred times from Cor, the queen narrowed her eyes ever so slightly at him, provoking another mischievous grin.

"Anyway," Queen Lucy continued, turning back to her now-captive audience, "we have the feast on the terrace at supper time, and it's the best feast of the whole year – well, except for the Yule feast – in the winter," she added hastily, seeing that the fleeting confusion on their faces. "And then we have an all-night dance, and the naiads and dryads always lead it off with the fauns and satyrs, because they dance the best of everybody by far. You should _see _their bean-dance; I can't follow half of it without getting dizzy – "

"You might want to explain the concept of a bean-dance to them, Lu," King Edmund put in.

"Yes, Father," his sister shot back in a syrupy sweet tone that made Corin snicker. "Anyway, really, it's nothing too complicated; they just dance in circles – well, patterns, really – and throw beans across each other at exactly the same time, and they have to step just right to avoid the ones thrown by the dancers across from them. And the beans are really small, so it doesn't hurt anybody," she added, seeing Cari's wide eyes. "So after they're done with that, everybody gets to dance, and it goes on until sunrise. It's _so_ – "

" – much fun," her brother finished with her.

_Hmm. I always wondered what it would have been like to have an older brother, and whether or not he'd be less annoying than my younger brother – well, brothers. Apparently not._

"And she loves it because she always gets to have another party for her birthday four days later," King Edmund added.

His sister cocked her head and raised one eyebrow. "Hmm. Wasn't it you who used to run around the castle every week for two months before your birthday and announce to all the guards exactly how many weeks it was until the actual day?"

Her brother threw her a dirty look, and Cari could have sworn that the tips of his ears reddened ever so slightly.

After breakfast, King Lune took his children and Aravis on an extensive tour of the castle – as well as the courtyard, where there were stone huts built into the walls for butchering and butter-making, among other labors. Nearly every room Cari saw – from the war and strategy room with mounted weapons and maps all over the walls, to the magnificently draped and pillowed solar designated for the royal family's private entertainment, to the kitchens filled with the aromas of cooking meats, sharp cheeses, and some dish or other with apples in it – could have fit at least two of Arsheesh's hut with ease. Even most of the hallways were as wide as the house's main room. Most of them were lined with tapestries like the ones that had seized Cari's interest the previous day; like the others, they portrayed progressive scenes that seemed to form tales of some sort, and more than once, Cor or Aravis had to elbow Cari to get her to follow King Lune to the next room or hallway.

_Oh, Tash save me. If I don't want to spend my every waking moment getting lost, I'll need a servant whose sole job is to guide me through this place._

The tour ended in the stables, which took up a sizable chunk of the courtyard on the rear side of the castle. Here, to the siblings' joint delight, they were reunited with Bree, Bren, and Hwin. After greeting all three horses warmly, the three monarchs removed themselves to the castle; Queen Lucy looked as though she would rather stay with the others, but as far as Cari could tell, the three had a fairly serious matter to discuss among themselves. Corin, who had obviously met talking horses before, was nonetheless fascinated by the animals' account of the journey, as well as their previous battle experiences. It took several strong hints from Aravis to move the conversation off the subject.

"You're sure you don't want to stay here?" Cor asked Bree almost plaintively.

The stallion shook his head. "I have longed to see Narnia ever since I left it," he replied. "I must say, though, that your father keeps the most excellent oats I have ever tasted."

"He and his servants have been very kind to us," put in Hwin, "and I am sure we would all love to return here for visits, if you will have us."

"Of course we will!" exclaimed Cari, who up until then had remained relatively silent except when correcting a few embellished points in Bree's account of their trip. "I mean – I'm sure Kin – Father wouldn't mind in the least. You did save our lives, after all."

Hwin lowered her head. "One could also say you saved our lives," she answered simply.

After an awkward pause, Aravis piped up, "So when will you be leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning, with the Narnians," Bren informed her. "King Edmund and Queen Lucy have graciously agreed to take us on."

"Horrid-looking tails and all," muttered Bree, lowering his head slightly.

"Oh, Bree, I'm sure they don't mind," Cari reassured him. "Besides, you did have a large part in saving Archenland and Narnia both – all of you did, that is – so I'm sure that in your cases they _really _won't mind."

"Besides," put in Bren, addressing her brother, "I'd rather go without a perfect tail than without a life – wouldn't you, Bree?"

Bree lowered his head farther and muttered something unintelligible. Hwin cocked her head and whickered something equally unintelligible, and Bree gradually raised is head again.

"In any case," Bren continued, turning back to Cari, "we've met a good number of the Narnians, and they're an amazingly cheerful lot. I must say I didn't realize how much I'd missed being able to look at another animal and actually _talk_ to her."

"Some of the cats were also very helpful in offering clues as to our families' whereabouts," added Hwin. "I would so love to be able to see my mother and father again."

"As would we," Bree added quickly, and Bren nodded. "Not that Mum won't give us – me, I mean – a scolding fit to knock my ears off – "

"Oh, she'll give it to both of us," his sister interjected. "You didn't wander across that pasture alone."

Bree neighed gratefully. "In any case, I wouldn't wonder if she were to scold us over the state of our tails. And if she catches me rolling – "

"She won't care a whit," interrupted Bren. "What if she likes to roll, too? Besides, I thought we'd agreed to both roll over together when we first reach Narnia to help you get used to the idea?"

Bree rolled his eyes and started muttering again.

"Huh," interjected Corin unexpectedly. "I've never seen a horse who didn't enjoy a good roll. Do you mean that Calormene horses don't?"

"No," replied Bren, "they do. We just weren't sure it was customary among northern horses."

Corin shrugged. "Well, you don't have anything to worry about, then. But is that how Calormene horses wear their tails?"

Bree snorted. "Absolutely not! Well – not war horses, anyway. You see them on pack horses, which is why we had to have them – trimmed – in the first place, since we were trying to pass through Tashbaan under that disguise."

"Oh." Corin seemed briefly satisfied, then brightened all of a sudden. "That sounds like terrific fun. I wish _I _could travel in disguise some time."

"Well, you sort of did," Cor pointed out. "After all, everybody thought I was you, so they weren't looking for you. And your eye sort of helped, too."

Corin grinned. "I hadn't thought of it that way. I suppose I won't come by that disguise again soon, though."

"Why not?" his twin wanted to know.

"Because I got it fighting the Watch," answered Corin, "and there's nobody here like them who would dare to knock me down like they did – if it were even possible."

"What do you mean, _possible_?" demanded Cor. "I could knock you down if I wanted to."

"Oh, sure, you could." Corin rolled his eyes. "Why? Would you like to try now?"

"Oh, for heaven's _sake_, Cor!" Cari exclaimed as the brothers made to approach each other. "You do _not _need to get into another fight after the last one nearly killed you."

"Oh, come on, Cari," her brother fairly groaned, even as he shoved Corin's arm to one side. "That one involved actual weapons, and – "

"And if Corin's eye is any proof, fists are dangerous, too," Cari interrupted, then turned to her other brother. "Assuming, that is, that it did come from a fist, Corin?"

The boy, who had his hand around Cor's wrist, grinned. "Well, they wanted to use their weapons on me, I think, but I didn't give them time."

Cari rolled her eyes at him. "All right, Your Invincible Highness, fine. The point is, I am not going to sit and watch either of you give the other a black eye. If you want to be complete idiots and smack each other, fine. But I am _not _going to watch you do it. And if either of you comes out of there hurt, do not expect me to shed any tears for you." And turning on her heel, she swept out of the stables with the horses' laughter drifting after her. Unfortunately, however, she could not remember the way back to the castle's front entrance and had to re-enter the stable almost immediately.

Cor and Corin both burst out laughing when they saw their red-faced sister start to ask Aravis if she remembered the way back into the castle, but Cari's withering look cut them both short.

"Blimey," muttered Corin to his brother. "She gives an even wickeder look than Queen Susan."

Cari couldn't stifle a grin at this. "That one was just for practice," she informed him.

"She means it," Cor added. "Best just tell her where the door is."

His brother shrugged. "Might as well go there ourselves. I'm hungry."

After lunch, King Lune turned to his older son – as Cari had learned the former Shasta was. "Cor," he said, "it is time I showed you the battlements and defenses, as I promised you I would."

Cor nodded, then narrowed his eyes at Corin, who had a very impish grin on his face.

King Edmund, seeing this, clapped Corin on the shoulder. "Corin," he said, "I believe it is high time we have our long-delayed chess match. What say you?"

For the first time since she had met him, Cari saw Cor's face fall ever so slightly. _Hmm. I guess he can't knock King Edmund down at chess nearly as easily as he claims he can knock Cor down with his fists._ However, the boy agreed, leaving Queen Lucy to suggest that she, Aravis, and Cari walk to the seamstress's rooms to get their measurements.

"After all," she said, "you are quite lucky that you're both about the same size as Cara – your mother, Cari – was; her gowns have fit you both quite well so far. But the gowns will fit you both better if they are altered according to your own measurements."

"All those dresses – all of them were my mother's?" Cari blurted out. _And I've only seen the ones in my closets. Aravis must have at least nearly as many._

"Most of them," Queen Lucy answered. "I gave them a few of my own as well."

Cari's eyes and mouth all widened for a moment before she could manage, "I – I'm sorry, Queen Lucy, I didn't know. I – we are very grateful."

"Yes, thank you very much," added Aravis.

The young queen waved one hand. "You're very welcome, of course. But some of them belonged to my sister as well, so I can't take credit for all of them. And we're very happy to do it. That's what friends are for, anyway." She flashed a warm smile at both girls. "And actually, you each have one or two that were made a few days ago, right before you got here. So if you don't mind having your gowns sent out for alterations – several at a time, of course, not all at once – they should be done within a month – just in time for you to wear whichever you like if you're able to come to Narnia for the festival. The seamstresses should even have enough time to make you each a few more new ones." Here her grin widened considerably.

_New gowns? To go with the dozens I already have? _However, Cari eventually did manage an, "Of course it's fine, Queen Lucy; I'm sure I won't miss a few dresses at a time."

The castle, Cari discovered, employed ten seamstresses – four added just within the past few days upon news of her and Aravis's impending arrival – who operated under the supervision of the head seamstress, a middle-aged woman nearly as thin as her own needles. _And nearly as sharp, _Cari reflected several times; the woman was exacting in her measurements and brought up several details Queen Lucy had not thought of, such as the need for nightcaps – which Narnian women apparently did not wear – and adjusting the more formal gowns' hems to allow for the greater heights of the matching shoes. She also took down detailed notes about the two girls' color and cloth preferences – although the latter was rather limited in the case of Cari, who had only ever known the rough linen weave of her Calormene dresses and could not yet distinguish among many of the finer fabrics.

_At least I remembered to nod and not curtsey to her, _she mused as the three girls made their way down one of the building's many staircases and into the bower room, which King Lune had informed Cari was set aside for the entertainment of the mistress of the castle and her ladies-in-waiting and female guests. There, all three girls discovered that they shared a common thread in the form of a game Cari and Cor had called "Stones" when they played it as children in Calormen. Aravis and her Tarkheena friends had called it "Stones and Bowls," whereas Queen Lucy and her siblings knew it as "Jump-Crystals." In any case, Cari reflected, her mother must have liked the game too, for sitting on one of the side tables was a finely carved square wooden board filled with perfectly spaced, perfectly rounded indentations. The ones at the corners were about twice the size of their counterparts, and each was filled with tiny polished stones of a different color. Each of the holes connecting the corners had one dark stone shot with glimmers of color, so that the bare middle of the board was ringed with stones. Queen Lucy removed the stones from one of the corner holes, since there were only three players, and the three girls immediately began their best attempts to out-strategize each other.

"So how do you two like the castle?" Queen Lucy asked the others, dropping four of the stones in her corner in a diagonal line toward the center of the board.

Aravis's brow furrowed as she imitated the queen's action from her own corner, then smoothed over as she raised her head to address her. "Very well-furnished, Queen Lucy. I have never seen such bronze work before – or such brick work, either. It is quite a solid building; it must be very defensible."

Queen Lucy tilted her head. "Well, I believe it's been quite a while since it had to be defended. There hasn't been a siege in Archenland for at least two hundred years – I think. Or is it three hundred? Hmm – I don't remember. Susan would know; she's much better at that sort of thing than I am." She turned to Cari, who instead of imitating the other two girls' maneuvers had dropped four of her stones in a neat line immediately in front of the border to the right of her corner hole. "What about you, Cari?"

"Oh, I – I love it, Queen Lucy," the older girl replied. "Especially my rooms, of course. I really appreciate all you did to set them up for me – and Aravis, of course."

The young queen waved her hand. "Oh, it was nothing. I'm just so glad you came! And honestly, Susan's taught me most of what I know about all the details of setting up rooms. She's much better at it than I am. I can't wait for you to meet her – I'm sure you'll love her, and she'll be so delighted! Not that we don't love having visits with Lune and Corin, but this way Su and I won't be so outnumbered. And anyway, the more the merrier." She grinned as she set down three more stones in a straight line toward the middle of the board. "Although Jaela will probably give me a bit of grief – all in good fun, of course. She always says I'm a handful by myself, without the need for any extra company. My maidservant," she added, seeing Aravis's and Cari's blank looks. "She says I wear out her hooves all by myself."

"Her hooves?" exclaimed both girls at the same time.

The young queen gave her head a sharp shake. "Oh, right. Jaela's a faun. She's actually a distant cousin of Mr. Tumnus's – you remember him, right?"

_How could I ever forget? _Cari wondered, but kept that thought to herself as Aravis asked, "So are many of your servants fauns?"

"A fair few," the young queen replied, then groaned as Aravis dropped two stones in the hole immediately beyond one of hers, then removed the queen's stone and handed it back to her with a grin. "But not all of them. Quite a few, especially our maidservants, are naiads and dryads, and some of Peter and Edmund's manservants and men-at-arms are centaurs. There are also quite a few animals who help out." Seeing the girls' raised brows, she added, "I know Cair Paravel won't be quite what you've been used to, either here at Anvard or back in Calormen, but I think you'll love it when you get there. And everybody will love you, especially Jaela. She's always saying I need a few more level-headed friends to calm me down. Well – " here she frowned slightly and tilted her head for a moment – "actually, I think the day before Midsummer Eve, when we invited you all to arrive, is her day off, but you'll meet her the next day, anyway. Susan would know for sure; she keeps the servants' schedules."

However, neither of the two younger girls paid particular attention to the last sentence; both stared at the queen with apple-wide eyes.

"The servants…get days off in Narnia?" Aravis finally managed.

Queen Lucy's brow wrinkled for a moment. "But of course – oh, you mean Calormene servants don't?"

Both of the other girls shook their heads in unison.

After a moment of silence and a bit of quirking on the part of Queen Lucy's mouth, she shrugged one shoulder very slightly. "Oh. Well, in Narnia – and Archenland, too, come to think of it – every servant gets at least two days a month off. After all, they do need a chance to rest and enjoy their pay."

"Their pay?" Even the normally composed Aravis could not keep from blurting out her disbelief.

The queen's brow wrinkled again. "Well, yes. Wait – Calormene servants don't get paid?"

Aravis merely shook her head. Cari was too surprised to do anything but follow her lead.

"Oh," managed the queen. It took a few moments for her brow to smooth out. "Well – anyway, now you know, I guess. I suppose Susan would have thought to explain that yesterday; I just never thought – but there you have it."

"Wait." Cari finally got up the courage to ask the question that had sprung up in her mind the moment the queen had said the word "pay." "Am I – are we supposed to pay our own servants – I mean, Mara, Treya, Maria, and Mariel?" _How do I do that? Do I ask K – Father for the money?_

"Oh, no," Queen Lucy quickly assured her, concern written on her face. "The royal treasury takes care of that – meaning the revenues paid to the crown through taxes. Your father raised the castle servants' pay rate a few years ago, so you have nothing to worry about." Her smile softened as she tilted her head slightly toward Cari. "He truly is the most generous man I have ever met."

_He certainly must be,_ reflected Cari several days later, stroking the pendant at the end of the delicate silver chain around her neck. The rounded, woven silver circle framed a set of three tiny flowers depicted in three-dimensional pieces of colored metal. The largest flower, set in the pendant's center, was a deep, vibrant purple, with adorable white twins flanking it. Each flower had a purple or white gemstone at its center. On either side of the pendant, separated from it by a length of chain, was a mounted diamond, and further up the chain beyond each diamond rested a purple flower matching the one on the pendant. King Lune had had the necklace made by one of the castle's jewelers as soon as he learned of his daughter's impending return, and the man had finished it just the previous night, which meant that Cari's father had presented it to her that morning before she and her siblings began the day's lessons.

_I am so glad Cor was right about me getting an education,_ was one of the first thoughts to enter Cari's head once she had gotten over her excitement about the necklace, which was not until everyone had been seated in the schoolroom to begin the usual four hours of lessons. Master Dorian, their silver-bearded tutor, actually had to call her name twice before she responded – not at all a normal occurrence for Cari, who never failed to pay him the utmost attention. From the day she had met him, she had thrown herself assiduously into her studies – so much so that Cor had begged her several times to take on some of his work so that he could spend more time in his sword lessons. She had refused each time, reminding him it was his own fault that he hadn't paid nearly as much attention to Hashim's lessons as he should have.

Even though she had been fortunate enough to have been taught her letters and numbers, however, Cari was dismayed to find that she was far behind Corin, and even further behind Aravis, in every subject Master Dorian taught. In reading, writing, mathematics, geography, logic, history, and all of the sciences, the tutor had her start at a level equal to what she found out most eight- and nine-year-old servant children were taught. Corin had teased her about at first, and when Cor threatened to knock him down for it, the boys very nearly got into another fight until Aravis glared at them both and threatened to sword-fight with Corin. The latter, having seen the Tarkheena in the castle's sword-ring wielding her scimitar at her swordmaster, stuck out his tongue and muttered, but backed down.

"Technically, you couldn't have fought him yet, though," Cari had reminded Aravis later, "since he's still grounded from the sword-ring for a couple more days."

Aravis rolled her eyes. "I'd still have fought him once his grounding was up. I am far out of practice on the scimitar, and I need to learn to wield a straight sword properly."

"You're already wielding it a straight lot better than I can," Cari fairly muttered back, rubbing the two bandaged fingers on her right hand, which she had cut at the previous day's fighting lesson on her wooden practice sword. _I really, really, _really_ wish Father hadn't made me take sword lessons. I'm hopelessly horrible at them – as horrible as I am at dancing lessons._ She shivered at the thought of that afternoon's dancing session, where she had stepped on her long-suffering instructor's feet so many times that she had lost track after two dozen. Fortunately for her – and very unfortunately for the poor teacher – Cor had proven even clumsier, but that didn't make Cari feel much better.

_I think I should just be banned from taking any lessons that involve physical movement,_ she thought the following day after accidentally elbowing Corin in the face twice during another disastrous dancing lesson. _I'm much less of a threat when I'm given a book and told to sit still. Besides, Corin wouldn't laugh at me as much. Come to think of it, he deserved those bruises, after a fashion. I should tell him that some time._

However, she got her revenge in a very different way at their history lesson the next morning, when Master Dorian asked Corin a question about the First Provincial War that completely stumped the boy.

"I've asked you to read the chapter on the First Provincial War three times, Your Highness," the tutor said, a tone of mild disapproval in his voice.

"Yes, Master Dorian," Corin fairly mumbled, lowering his head; the tutor was the only person, aside from King Lune, who could restrain the boy's high spirits.

The teacher turned to Aravis, who was barely at a higher level in the subject than Cor and Cari, due to her lack of education about northern history. "Can you perhaps tell me, Lady Aravis, which monarch reigned in Narnia during the First Provincial War and helped to write the peace treaty that ended it?"

Aravis shook her head. "No, sir."

For the first time since she had begun her lessons with Master Dorian, Cari half-raised her hand with an unsolicited answer to the tutor's question. "Um…Master Dorian, may I attempt to answer you?"

The teacher turned to her with a quizzical smile on his face. "Of course, Princess Carisa." He had never taken to calling her by her shorter name.

"It was Queen Swanwhite, no?" Cari ventured. _I know the answer is yes, though._

Sure enough, Master Dorian nodded. "Very good, Princess." He paused a moment before regarding her sharply. "If I am not mistaken, however, your assigned reading for this week ends two chapters before the war as covered in your book, however."

Cari's cheeks reddened. "Yes, sir. I just – I found the material so fascinating that I wanted to continue reading."

Ignoring Corin's incredulous look, the teacher smiled. "I see. I trust, however, that you are keeping up with your work on your other subjects?"

"Yes, sir." _Even mathematics. Ugh. Although I'd rather read my mathematics book than go to sword practice and dancing lessons every single afternoon, especially now that Mistress Shona has extended our lessons so that we can learn all of the dances we'll need to know for the Narnian Midsummer festival. If I'm lucky, I might get through one dance without forgetting the steps or stepping on the toes of whichever person I'm dancing with. I _really _hope it's just Cor or Corin, and Father doesn't make me dance with either of the Narnian kings. If that happens, I definitely won't get through so much as half a dance without stepping on somebody's toes._

_Cari, you're at lessons. Pay attention._

However, even though she finally got through her first practice dance without any mistakes several days later, Cari had no more confidence in her dancing abilities than she had had on her first day of lessons. _If the dancing is such a huge part of the festival as Queen Lucy says it is, I may as well give up now. Come to think of it, every activity she mentioned involves some degree of physical coordination. I'm sure to fail pathetically. In fact, the only reason I even want to go is to see Queen Lucy again – and Bren and Bree and Hwin. I miss them as much as I told them I would when they left._

However, her spirits mildly improved after a game of Jump-Crystals that evening, where she defeated three of her ladies-in-waiting. _And Ketria beats me – not to mention the others – every time! _The fact that she was summarily defeated half an hour later by Tammah, who as the winner of the previous match with the other three ladies-in-waiting had earned the right to face her in a two-player contest, did not even bother her as much as losing a game normally did. _At least this is one more thing I'm not completely horrid at. So I guess it's this and school versus sword lessons, dancing, and tapestry-weaving – oh, and finding my way around the castle. Ugh. Thank heavens Takiel and Dara are such patient and talented seamstresses. And thank goodness Aravis never learned to do it and is just as bad as I am at it._

_Cari, you shouldn't be thinking that. It's not polite or kind to be happy about somebody else's frustrations._

_But she's better than I am at _everything_ else. All right, maybe not at history. But that hardly counts; she knows more about everything else than I do, especially about court customs._

_Well, she _was _raised in a court of her own, and you weren't. You can't hold that against her._

_It's still not fair. She's much better suited to be a princess than I am._

_Well, you were born a princess, and she wasn't. Father said if Aslan hadn't intended you to be a princess, He wouldn't have created you a member of the royal family. He chose you for a reason._

If _that story can be believed, that is. I know Aslan is real, but the rest of it…_

Cari never got a chance to finish her train of thought, however, for at that point she entered her bedroom and was greeted by Maria's usual exuberance. Mara, not far behind her daughter, curtseyed as best she could, considering that she was carrying a pile of gowns, which had, Cari presumed, just come back from being altered by the seamstresses.

"And how is your foot doing this evening, Princess Cari?" she asked, referring to the girl's left foot, which had taken a beating the previous day in the sword ring, in addition to being stepped on by Cor several times during dancing lessons.

"A bit better, thank you, Mara," replied Cari, then, "Perhaps if I hurt it this badly every time I made a mistake at dancing, I would actually be halfway prepared for the Midsummer festival."

Mara turned from where she was hanging up a gown in one of the wardrobes and waved her hand dismissively. "As I have said before, Princess Cari, you are capable of much more than you give yourself credit for. Look at how far you've come with your lessons already!"

Cari flipped her hands palms-up in a dismissive gesture of her own. "Yes, but I – I have a bit more natural talent for lessons. I have none at all for dancing, unless you count injuring one's partner as part of it."

Instead of continuing with her series of encouragements, Mara graced the girl with a half-motherly, half-reminiscent smile. "Your mother once said very nearly the same thing."

"She did?" Cari's surprise was written all over her face. "I – I thought she – well, being queen and everything – " She once again turned her hands palms-up before trailing off.

Mara's smile twitched. "Yes, but she wasn't always queen of Archenland. She visited the castle several times as Lady Cara before she married your father. She stepped on his feet twice during the very first dance they ever had together, at the Yule festival she and her father attended here when she was nineteen years old."

"Really?" Cari unconsciously leaned forward, and Mara smiled at the girl's eagerness.

"Oh, yes. Her face was as red as a beet by the time they were through. So was your father's, though – he stepped on her feet twice as well. Your grandmother, whom I was serving at the time, said years later that they had been perfectly matched from their first moment together."

Cari was grinning by then. "So what happened next? Did they dance together again that night?"

Mara shook her head. "No. They didn't see each other for over a year after that, when her father came back to Anvard to resolve a tax dispute. Your mother almost understood the matter better than her own father did, and that impressed your father a great deal, I think, as well as your grandmother. When they got to talking some more, they discovered that they were both excellent hands at tennis and both loved horses and studying the old poems – like the one you heard at the feast the night you got here. I don't believe your father ever looked at another girl after that."

Cari frowned slightly as she made some mental calculations. "But they didn't get married until – what – three years after that?"

"Right." Mara nodded. "For one thing, as I'm sure your father told you, no lady of the royal family in this country can be married before the age of twenty-one, and most noble families follow the same practice. For another, your grandfather, King Trelm, wanted your father to marry a higher-ranking lady, although your grandmother – "

But what Mara would have said about her grandmother Cari never knew, for the conversation was suddenly interrupted by two very large, very furry black rats emerging from Cari's bedcovers, which had been turned down for the night, and leaping off the bed toward the vanity – one rat very nearly caught one of its hind legs in the lacy undersheet.

Mara immediately dropped the remaining gowns in her arms and was very nearly bowled over by a hysterically screaming Maria. Cari let out a yelp of shock and, in her haste to get as far away from the scurrying animals as she could, promptly tripped over the corner of the nearest wardrobe and fell sprawling on the floor.

Within a few moments, Soren and Theodore, who always stood guard at the entrance to Cari's chambers, had rushed inside, gotten the gist of the situation from Mara, and cornered both rats next to the wardrobe opposite the one Cari had tripped over. Theodore, the younger guard, swept off his hat at a pointed look from his counterpart, threw the squirming animals into it, and marched out of the room.

"Thank you, Soren," Mara addressed the older guard. As soon as the other two girls had echoed her sentiments, she turned to Cari. "I am so sorry, Princess Cari. We did our usual cleaning of the chambers this afternoon, and saw nothing to suggest the presence of any animals here – no droppings – no wall niches – "

"If I may, Your Highness?" Soren broke in when Mara trailed off. "I do not believe my colleagues have been remiss in their duties. I have not seen rats in these chambers for several years, and the last time was when – well – when a person deliberately brought one in as a prank for the occupants." He cleared his throat a bit uncomfortably before adding, "And Mara and her family have always done their utmost and beyond to support the cleanliness of these rooms."

Cari merely stared at him for a moment before his words sank in. _But nobody I know here would…well, except _maybe _– oh, you have _got _to be joking…_

_No, I'm not. After all, he did tell you yesterday that the apple juice you were drinking was ground straight from wormy apples…_

"Soren," she finally managed, "was my brother Corin here at all today?"

The guard nodded slowly. "I had just come on duty this afternoon when I saw him leaving your receiving room, Your Highness. Forgive me, but you had mentioned that your family members were always to be allowed inside, so I thought nothing of it."

Cari's mouth tightened for a moment before she could manage a half-smile. "Please don't worry about it, Soren; you haven't done anything wrong. I did say exactly that. Thank you for your help, though; I'm afraid I lack your rat-catching expertise. If you would be so kind, would you mind waiting until we make sure that my – that there are no more rats in the room?"

Soren bowed. "Of course, Your Highness."

Fortunately, there was no third – or fourth – rat to be found. After Cari and the two servants – aided by Aravis and her servants, who had heard the screams and run to Cari's chambers just in time to see Mara and Maria pulling the covers cleanly off the bed – Soren bowed and returned to his duty at the receiving room door. When Aravis heard the story, she burst out laughing.

"My brother always put snakes in my room when we were younger," she offered cheerfully. "I always caused my maidservants to search my bed thoroughly every night to make sure he had not done it again."

_Actually, snakes wouldn't have been nearly as bad as rats,_ thought Cari._ We had snakes crawling through the hut quite often, but I have _never _seen a rat that big…or that black._ However, all she said was, "Did he ever stop doing it – I mean, before he went to war and all?" _Way to put your foot in your mouth again, Cari._

Aravis, however, did not seem offended in the least, and merely shook her head. "He didn't, but I let him have a taste or two of his own medicine, so we ended up square."

"You put snakes in his room, too?" Both of Cari's eyebrows had shot up by at least half an inch.

The younger girl shook her head again. "No. But I did steal his favorite sword a few times. Actually, I caused my servants to steal it most of those times, so that he would not blame me." She paused, and a very nearly guilty look came over her face. "I suppose I put them in greater danger of being whipped than I should have. However, he never did catch them – or me."

_Well, I am _not _doing that, _thought Cari as she lay in bed later that night. _It's completely infeasible. I would never send Mara or Maria on an errand like that, and even if I could sneak into the armory without being caught – highly unlikely in any case – I'd never make it out the door without tripping and impaling myself on the sword. And I'm not nearly creative enough to think up a retaliation plan anywhere near as good as that one._

_Unless…_

_So much for knocking you down, Corin. I never complained about the juice comment, or the marbles on my chair in the solar, or my empty inkwell in the schoolroom. I only jumped and squirmed and reacted to your total delight. This time, though, you're pig-roast._

The next day, Cari swept into the great hall for lunch and flashed a huge smile at Corin, who tried his best to avoid her gaze. No sooner had they all sat down and begun to eat than Cari addressed her father in the sweetest voice she could muster.

"Father," she began, "do you ever find animals here other than the castle pets? For instance, snakes, or mice, or even – " here she paused just long enough to glance out of the corner of her eye at Corin, who was diligently tucking into his food – "rats?"

King Lune's brow furrowed as he addressed his daughter. "Well, yes, we do have a few rats and mice crawling in from time to time, but they always appear in the basement or on the ground level, and the servants are very diligent about removing them." He tilted his head inquiringly. "Why – have you seen any that escaped their notice of late, my daughter?"

"Oh, nothing of consequence," Cari replied smoothly, "merely two very tiny creatures that the guards were most helpful in dispensing with. And speaking of tiny – just this morning I heard the funniest story about Corin when he was very small. Do you perhaps remember an occasion when you were in the war room with your council, and Corin dodged his servants and entered the room wearing – "

At this, Corin, whose mouth had been full of food during his sister's speech, swallowed so suddenly that his already apple-red face turned nearly purple. He also began coughing uncontrollably, causing two of the table servants to run forward and join the king in patting his son on the back and offering him water until he had recovered, at which time he hastily began discussing as much of the morning's history lesson as Cari figured he could remember.

After lunch, as the four siblings headed off to their afternoon dancing lesson, Cor turned to his brother. "So what _were _you wearing, Corin?"

"Nothing!" his brother exclaimed hastily, then, seeing three pairs of widened eyes staring at him, quickly amended his statement. "Nothing – out of the ordinary, I mean."

"Oh, really?" Cari asked sweetly.

The boy's face reddened once again. "Come on, Cari," he sputtered, "they don't – they – wait, how did you _know _that, anyway?"

His sister's smirk widened. "Oh, my maidservants have excellent memories." She deliberately emphasized the plural on the last word.

Corin's face turned from red to white in record time. "They – you – nobody got – bitten or hurt or anything, right?"

"Not really," Cari replied, still grinning.

"Then – it's a fair trade if nobody else knows – hears about – anything else, right?" Still squirming ever so slightly, he shot her an almost pleading look.

Cari had to bite her tongue to keep from laughing out loud. "I suppose not…seeing as how I'm quite sure I will never see any rodents in my chambers again."

"Fine," muttered Corin, lowering his head.

"What _was _he wearing, anyway?" Aravis asked Cari a couple of hours later as the two girls trailed the brothers on the way to the sword ring.

Cari grinned. "A bargain's a bargain, so technically I can't tell you. But if you ever want to hear a good story about Corin as a little boy, just ask Mara. She'll be glad to tell you."

Aravis grinned back as the two girls entered the armory, where they could hear Corin, who was strapping on his sword, muttering something about girls and their deviousness.

_I suppose I was a bit mean about it, _Cari reflected as she donned her own wooden practice sword. _I am supposed to be far more mature than he is. All right – no more teasing him, no matter what he does._

_He might not do anything now for a while, though. Besides, that was fun._

_You're eighteen years old and a princess, Cari. Act your age._

So she offered Corin a genuine smile on her way past him into the ring. The boy quickly reddened and reached down to tighten his scabbard-strap.

A quarter of an hour later, after he had accidentally parried too hard and hit her elbow, Corin made the first real apology she'd heard from him. When she nodded and offered a quiet, "It's all right, Corin," she received a wide, appreciative smile in return.

_So the little nut case does have some redeeming qualities, after all. Not to mention he'd be an excellent person to have around in a sword-fight._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE, PART 2: Thanks for reading this novel of a chapter! I did not set out to make it this long, but Cari needed to explore her new home quite a bit more before she set out for Narnia. And yes, the next chapter will bring her to Narnia. I'll give you three guesses as to who she meets there. **


	21. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

**PRONUNCIATION GUIDE 1: Nakorus is pronounced KNOCK-oh-roos, and Nakorusian is pronounced knock-oh-ROO-zhun.**

**PRONUNCIATION GUIDE 2: Hippolytus is pronounced hip-ALL-it-us.**

**I know, I know – I really should create a chapter made solely out of pronunciation guides. I may get to it eventually.**

Cari sighed heavily on her way out of the great hall. After a particularly trying day that included an ink-spill in the schoolroom, a dance lesson full of tripping and stepping on her brothers' toes, two accidental smacks on the arm in the sword ring, and three falls off her new horse during her afternoon riding lesson, she was more than ready for a long sojourn in the library. During her first tour of the castle, her father had pointed it out, and, not remembering how to get there, she had gathered the courage on the following day to ask Mara to show her the way. Every day for a week after supper, she had followed the servant through a maze of hallways, staircases, and alcoves to the pair of paneled doors that opened into Cari's favorite room in the castle other than her own. On her first day there, with the help of the two librarians on duty, she had picked out the first volume of a comprehensive history of Archenland, but during her second night of reading the book, she found it frustratingly short on details about the early border wars with Nakorus to the east. The next day, she went back to the library and selected a book that delved more deeply into the subject. However, a few days later, she found herself wanting to know more than the first book said about Queen Anya, who had become the first female Archenlander to rule the nation in her own right, without being married to a king. This sent her back to the library for a biography of the queen, which quickly became a favorite of hers; Anya had reigned for over fifty years and seen her nation through two wars.

_I'm still glad I'm not stuck in her situation,_ she mused as she opened the doors and entered the library. _Thank heavens Archenland isn't like Narnia in that respect. Were we all in Narnia, I'd have to rule simply because I'm the oldest. I am _so _lucky that in Archenland, the oldest male heir rules. Poor Cor, though. I wish Corin wouldn't bring it up to him so much. They get in far too many fights over it. And Corin _is _rather good at knocking people down – well, Cor, anyway. I think I even believe his story about knocking all those bullies down in Tashbaan._

_Come on, Cari. It's Corin. What do you expect?_

"Good evening, Princess Cari," Miera, one of the librarians, greeted her from behind the intricately paneled desk to the left of the doors. "What kind of book can I help you find tonight?"

Cari grinned; she had liked Miera immediately upon meeting her. Short, slight, and quite young – she looked to be not much over thirty years of age – she possessed a calm natural warmth that reminded Cari somewhat of Queen Lucy, although Miera was much more level-headed and logical by nature. She also knew every inch of every bookshelf in the room – not a small accomplishment, as it was nearly as large as the great hall.

"Good evening, Miera," Cari greeted the woman. "I would like to get something on the Nakorusian invasions of the fourth century, if possible."

The prospect of a new challenge lit Miera's eyes as her lips pursed for a moment in thought. "We certainly have books about it; that much I know. I'm sure they also have documents from that era in the archives downstairs. The question is where…oh, right." She snapped her right thumb against her middle finger, as was her wont when she remembered something important. "This way, Princess Cari."

Cari quickly followed the librarian as she wended her way among the room's countless bookshelves before stopping at the one she wanted. "Right. This one. And they would probably be on the bottom…" She bent down to peer at the books at the bottom of a shelf on the right-hand side of the aisle, then quickly straightened. "No, we moved everything up last week…Aha!" She reached triumphantly up to the top of the adjoining shelf and pulled out several volumes. "You'll probably want one of these, if not more…Hmm. This one really just focuses on the invasion into the eastern Arrow provinces – " she yanked a thin book from the pile and set it aside – "and these two are written from more of a standpoint of military tactics." She placed two more tomes atop the first one. "That leaves three…and this one here was written by Kernan, the historian who wrote the book I gave you on the border wars. You said you liked that one, correct?"

Cari nodded. "Yes, I did."

Miera held out the book to which she had been referring. "You would probably like this one, then. Kernan was an expert on the relations between Nakorus and Archenland." She handed the book to Cari. "Would you like to have the others as well?"

Cari shook her head. "No, thank you, Miera. I'll get confused enough trying to get through just one."

"I doubt that," answered the librarian, raising her eyebrows ever so slightly. "Judging from the questions you have asked me about your other books, I would say you have mastered the material incredibly well for one who started learning the history of Archenland so recently."

Cari gave her a red-faced half-smile as the woman put back the other books. After a few moments, her brow wrinkled slightly. "Wait. Isn't this almost the same shelf you got the other book on the Nakorusian wars from?"

Miera flashed her a surprised but very pleased grin. "The adjoining one, in fact. You have an excellent memory, Princess." After a pause, she added, "You see, in this library we shelve books first by their subject – arts, sciences, poetry, geography, history, and so on – and then within those subjects by their own subjects. For instance, we are in the middle of the history section, and this subsection right here is the largest, as it's full of books about the history of Archenland. We do have books about the histories of other nations; they're in different subsections. Now, within the Archenland history subsection…" And she spent the next fifteen minutes explaining much of the library's organizational skills to her captive audience.

Eventually, Miera wrote the name of the tome the princess was borrowing into the log book the library used to keep track of which materials had been lent to whom, and Cari left the library, still trying to keep straight in her own mind what the librarian had told her. _It would be wonderful to be able to find books on my own, without bothering Miera and Achor so much. Maybe I can ask her to help me draw a diagram of where all the different subsections begin and end._

Still ruminating, Cari did not notice her father heading down the hallway toward her, and so she almost sprawled to the ground when she ran into him. Only her father's quick intervention kept her from ending up face first in front of a tapestry depicting a battle in the very Nakorusian invasions she had been reading about.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Father!" she exclaimed as he steadied her. "I didn't see you!"

Her father, who had bent down to retrieve her book, handed it to her and smiled. "I am sure you didn't, Cari," he replied, then, "Visiting the library again so soon?"

Cari's already-pink cheeks darkened slightly. "I – well – the history book keeps on mentioning events I would like to know more about," she explained, "so I check out more books on those events from time to time."

The king nodded. "I see. And what is your newest one about?" He tilted his head toward the volume in his daughter's hand.

"It's about the Nakorusian invasions of the fourth century," Cari answered.

Her father nodded again. "You like your history, don't you, Cari?"

Cari couldn't help smiling. "Yes, very much." She quickly added, "I also keep up with the work Master Dorian assigns me in my other subjects, however."

"Oh, I am sure you do," her father reassured her quickly. "He tells me you are making remarkable progress in all of your subjects."

Cari blushed and looked down, and her lips twisted into a smile despite themselves.

"You really are your mother's daughter, you know," King Lune continued, which caused the girl's eyes to gravitate toward him like magnets. "She was the most intelligent woman I ever knew, and she too had a special love for history."

"Really?" Cari couldn't help but ask.

Her father nodded. "She loved weaving tapestries of stories from the past. Several of the ones hanging in the halls are hers."

The girl's eyes widened intently. "Which ones, Father?"

"Well, the first ones she made after our marriage were the ones showing parts of the Great Western Wars with Telmar and Kulon," answered her father. "And later – several years ago – she began a series about the entrance of the current kings and queens into Narnia, along with Aslan's return, death, and resurrection and the subsequent defeat of the White Witch. She never finished them." He turned his head and blinked several times before continuing. "However, she hung the ones she did finish – let's see – I think upstairs, near the terrace where we ate lunch on the first day you came here. And the others she hung – oh, come to think of it, not far away, between here and the war room." After a moment, he tilted his head as a new thought apparently entered it. "Would you like to see them?"

"You mean now?" asked Cari, who couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice. Seeing her father's nod, she answered, "Of course."

The two headed off arm-in-arm – King Lune, his daughter had discovered, was fond of giving her hugs and lending her his arm when they walked together – and, after turning a couple of corners, turned to face a broad section of wall covered with tapestries that, despite their thick threads, possessed an especially charming attention to detail. They indeed portrayed several scenes that were all presumably of the same battle, as King Lune had said, and Cari marveled at the intricacies of the emblems sewn into each side's battle flags and onto each warrior's over-tunic. Even the warriors' shadows fell consistently with the differing angles of the sun in each scene. And the rushing river, which occupied a prominent place in every scene, sparkled in more shades of blue than Cari had known existed. Before she realized it, she found her hand tracing the curls of the waves in one particularly torrential frame.

"She was as excellent a seamstress as she was a scholar." Her father's voice floated reminiscently behind her. "My mother said she had never seen such eloquent work from a queen of Archenland before."

_A tapestry, eloquent? Technically, tapestries can't talk…but if they could, these ones would. They do say a great deal more than some of the others, if one takes that point of view…but wait a minute – _"All of these tapestries were done by queens of Archenland?" She turned to face her father, who nodded.

"Yes; it's traditional for every queen to begin weaving tapestries of important events in Archenland's history upon her marriage – or coronation, as the case may be. Supposedly, it goes all the way back to the first queen of Archenland. Your mother's, of course, were the most recent." He paused. "And the finest, although my point of view is not what most would consider objective. Although she never could see that." His voice decreased infinitesimally in steadiness as he continued. "She would sometimes undo half a day's work – sometimes even an entire day's – because she deemed it too full of mistakes. She was determined that any work she hung would be her best. And it always was." His voice very nearly caught as he uttered the last statement.

Cari's own eyes had begun to grow a thin layer of moisture, and she had to pause and draw a deep breath before asking, "So what is the story behind this set of tapestries? I haven't reached that era yet in my studies."

Her father cleared his throat before answering her. "Well, your mother could tell it better than I – and so could Master Dorian – but as far as I remember, the Battle of the Flood, which is what these tapestries are about, happened in the eighth century or so. Perhaps it was the ninth – I am not sure – but in any case, it was during the Great Western War, when the kings of Telmar and Kulon formed an alliance and tried to overrun Archenland and split its lands between them. King Tarmon held them off for many years; he was one of the greatest warriors Archenland has ever seen.

"However, he died in the First Battle – I think – of Tetmore, and his son Croy succeeded him. Croy was not the warrior his father had been, and the war went badly during his lifetime. He was also killed in battle, and his son Arbior became king before his twentieth birthday. At the same time, Archenland and Narnia were suffering through a very hot summer following the second poor harvest in a row, and King Alden of Narnia could not send nearly as many men to help his neighbor as he would have liked. Very little rain fell that year, and both kings anticipated yet another difficult harvest season that autumn. The only factor that worked in Arbior's favor was that his father's forces had killed nearly half of his enemies' men in the battle at Tetmore, and the kings were forced to fall back and regroup near the capital of Telmar, scores of miles from the western border of Archenland at the Winding Arrow.

"However, the Telmarine and Kulonite kings re-marshaled their forces much more quickly than Arbior could, and he was barely able to reach the Winding Arrow before they did. He knew that if they could win passage into Archenland, all would almost certainly be lost – and he had very little hope of being able to hold them across the river for long, especially since the Winding Arrow had become very shallow due to the lack of rain. For three days and three nights he and his men waited by the banks of the river for their enemies to meet them. They spent the first three days building what fortifications they could, and on the last night Arbior commanded them to lay down their tools and pray to Aslan for deliverance.

"Near the end of the night, the soldiers saw their enemies approaching and marshaling on the opposite shore of the river. As dawn broke, rain began to fall, and it shortly became a downpour. Not wanting to risk crossing the river in such conditions, the Telmarine and Kulonite armies remained on their side of the Arrow. They decided that, since the rain would surely abate soon, they could afford to wait another day.

"But they were wrong. The rain did not let up the next day, or the next; in fact, it poured for a week straight, and the Winding Arrow flooded its banks, nearly overflowing the fortifications Arbior's army had built. Their enemies, not having constructed any of their own, were pushed back from the receding banks and scrambled to build shelters for themselves.

"During all of the disarray, who should appear on the eastern side of the Arrow but King Alden leading his army. They immediately set up camp alongside Arbior and his forces. By the time the rain had ended, Arbior found himself with nearly twice the number of men he had led to the shore. Moreover, the combined forces had time to strengthen their fortifications, since it took many days for the river to recede far enough for either army to cross it.

"The king of Telmar decided to attack his enemies' fortifications, against the advice of his most trusted advisor. But the Archenlanders and Narnians were ready for him. They pretended to pack up and leave, but secretly hid behind their last layer of fortifications. When the Telmarines and Kulonites crossed the river, they attacked them from behind the barriers with fire arrows and boulders and poisoned javelins. Even though they were outnumbered three to one, Arbior's men won the day and ended the war for good."

As the king spoke, he gestured to the tapestries, beginning with the one at the corner of the hallway, and worked his way all the way over to the next turn. As Cari followed his gestures, the figures in the tapestries began moving in her mind. They became soldiers digging fortifications and carrying torches, shooting arrows and taunting their enemies across the waters of the roaring river, scrambling into their makeshift huts as the skies opened in a screaming downpour. Slightly more than halfway down the hall, a hush had almost visibly fallen over the Archenlanders' camp as, to a man, they fell to their knees to beg Aslan for deliverance.

As she turned to the next tapestry, something caught Cari's eye – a flash of gold at the corner of a black sky. Peering more closely at the far edge of the previous tapestry, she discovered, woven cleverly into the background, a face she knew all too well.

"Father," she asked when she was finally able to formulate her thoughts, "does the story say that Aslan came into the camp?"

King Lune looked at her sharply. "No, it does not. Why?"

His daughter pointed to the Lion's face. "He's right there. Mother wove him in."

The king's brow wrinkled as he stared at the spot Cari had indicated, and his eyes took on a mistily reminiscent gleam. "Ah, yes. I remember her showing me this one and asking me what I thought about that. She had been in the archives downstairs and read the surviving remnants of Arbior's journal. In it, he said that when he lifted his head after a long night of prayer, he could have sworn he saw the air around him oddly golden and Aslan's face vanishing into the morning mist. He said it was the first time in years that he had felt any hope of keeping Archenland from disaster."

Cari shook her head slowly. _It sounds far too similar to what I saw on the raft the night we came to Calormen, _she thought. Her hand unconsciously traced the lower outlines of the Lion's stitched face. _But Mother must have believed what she read in order to make the tapestry this way, especially if she talked to Father about it. From what I have heard of her, she wasn't the type to imagine things, or to perpetuate the tales of those who did._

"And did Mother – " she began, but was interrupted by the abrupt appearance of Aravis, who burst from around the corner walking rather faster than normal – in fact, she was very nearly running. She immediately halted when she saw the two in front of the tapestry.

"Oh, I am sorry, Father Lune – Cari," she said. "I did not mean to interrupt you, but Cor said he thought you had gone to the library, and I was going to ask you if you had any time to join us in a game of Jump-Crystals before we retired for the evening."

"Of course I shall join you, Aravis." A jovial smile swept across the king's face. "Cari, would you like to come, or would you rather stay here?"

The girl gave her head a tiny but abrupt shake as though to clear it, then donned a smile. "I will stay here for a few more minutes, I think, but I will stop into the solar and greet you for the night before I retire to my room – if that suits you?"

The king nodded briefly. "Of course. Aravis, shall we?" He gestured the girl ahead of him, and they both disappeared around the corner while Cari sank to the floor in front of the tapestry bearing the Lion's face.

_He must not have wanted to discuss Mother any more with me, if he jumped so hard at the chance to get away from here. Maybe he didn't want to discuss anything with me; he seemed eager enough to go with Aravis to play games with Cor and Corin. He barely even looked at me once she asked him to go with her._

_Oh, for heaven's sake, Cari. He's the king; he can do whatever he wants. And he doesn't have to pay you any more attention than he wants to._

_But we were talking about Mother, and he mentions her so seldom! I wanted to ask him more about her!_

_And he can decide he's not up for it if he wants to. _

Shaking her head, Cari raised her eyes to the Lion's face once again.

_You look uncannily like You did that night on the raft,_ she mused. _Now that I've properly met You, and heard about the amazing things You've done, I suppose I can understand – a little bit, anyway – why all those men prayed to You for deliverance. Especially if they'd never been told anything about Tash and all the others. But I've prayed to them all my life. How do I stop – and why? I know it's felt extremely strange the few times I've begun my evening prayers to Zardeenah – but how do I know it won't feel even stranger if I do the same for You? How do I know that Father is right about You, and that Hashim and Ruhandi – two of the most wonderful people I've ever known – were wrong? Is it really possible that the world was never made of dust at all, and that You breathed, or sang, or spoke it, or whatever You did, into being? I've never really liked Tash, but I've always prayed to him for fear he'll destroy me if I don't. What if I stop? Will I be destroyed? And what about the others? Zardeenah may have let me get into some horrible situations, but the absolute worst never did happen. Isn't that a sign that she – or one of the others – was watching over me? _

_Oh, for heaven's sake, Cari. Couldn't it just as easily have been _Aslan_ who saved you those three times, and not Zardeenah?_

_But I prayed to her. I never prayed to Him!_

_No, but He still saved your life and your brother's that night on the raft, didn't He? And He still guided you to Aravis and Hwin, and through Tashbaan, and across the desert to the Hermit's dwelling. He still walked Cor over that horrible-sounding mountain pass into Narnia. He still brought you both back to your real father – a father who actually likes you and doesn't beat you. I daresay that if He could do all that without your prayers, He could certainly have saved you from complete violation and death those other three nights._

_But still…it might not have been Him. What if it _was _Zardeenah – or even Tash? After all, Aslan did send Prince Rabadash back to his temple in Tashbaan to be healed._

_Hmm. That's true. He'd hardly have sent him there if Tash really didn't exist, or wasn't powerless – right?_

_Not necessarily. Mightn't He have done that to show that He has power over Tash, even in Tash's own temple?_

_All right, maybe, but where does that that leave all of the others? When Father and Master Dorian and everybody else here talked as though they didn't exist, and kept on telling that story about Aslan singing the world into being, I thought they were just telling tales, like the Calormenes do. But my history books say the same thing, and if people here actually pray to Aslan – well, it's clearly not just a story to them._

_But is it just a story to me? How can I not believe in the gods I have always prayed to? But then, if Aslan really _is _the only one who should be prayed to – even then, how can I not believe in Him?_

She sighed and gazed longingly at the face on the tapestry. _I wish You could answer me. I wish You _would _answer me._

Cari eventually left the hall and drifted distractedly into the solar to wish her family good night, as she had promised, but when she went upstairs to her room, she could not concentrate on the book in her hands, and she retired earlier than usual. She tossed and turned in bed for much of the night and awoke the following morning feeling grainy-eyed and exhausted. She had a much harder time than usual concentrating in the schoolroom, and by the time she reached the sword ring that afternoon, all she wanted was to lie down on any flat surface she could find and sleep. However, she had no choice but to change into her sparring clothes and face Cor in the ring – especially since her father was perched at the edge of it, watching eagerly, as he did about once per week, for he loved watching swordplay. _Oh, blast it. Out of all the days he could have chosen to watch us, he had to pick today._

Sure enough, she stumbled and tripped even more than usual during her bout with Cor. Even worse, their swordmaster made them switch partners partway through the session. This meant that, after looking a bit of a fool (or so she thought) while fighting Cor, who was as much a beginner swordsman as she was, Cari made a complete idiot of herself – according to her own estimation, at least – while tripping her way through her bouts with the more experienced Corin and Aravis. The crown of it all was that, in the midst of fumbling over her feeble attempted slashes and parries, she heard her father's accolades for Aravis and Corin, who were, after all, on a completely different level of swordsmanship from herself and Cor. Granted, he complimented both of them as well, but more for their progress in learning basic maneuvers than for their execution of the more advanced work. He greeted each one of the four as they finally exited the ring, kissing Cari on the cheek and offering a "Well done, my lovely scholar," but with Aravis, who was the last to leave, he spent several minutes apparently discussing the difference between maneuvers done with scimitars and those executed with straight swords. They were still talking when the entire party headed indoors.

By the time she had reached the bathing room and submerged herself into a frothing tub of rose-scented water, Cari's thoughts had become as turbulent and multifaceted as the many bubbles.

_First Father cut our conversation short yesterday to play a game with Aravis, and now today he can't stop discussing swordsmanship with her. Maybe it's not that he doesn't like talking about Mother; maybe it's that he doesn't want to talk to me so much._

_Seriously, Cari, what is the matter with you? If he wants to discuss swordsmanship, he's perfectly entitled – and let's face it, you are not exactly the first person anybody would choose to discuss it with, especially somebody who wants to talk about Calormene swordsmanship to boot._

_I _know _that, but…wait, what if he saw through my apparently-not-so-subtle attempts to get even with Corin for those rats the other day? What if he decided I need to be put in my place? After all, he has had Corin with him all this time; it's only natural he wouldn't want me to retaliate, no matter how mildly, and no matter how much the little rabble-rouser deserved it. It shouldn't surprise you if Corin is his favorite. It's only natural._

_Wait just a moment here. First you spend fourteen years with a horrible man who beats you and whom you dearly wish would never pay you any attention, and now you're upset because your real father won't show you what you deem to be enough attention? What is the _matter _with you?_

_But I don't want a whole lot of attention from Father! I just don't want to have to wonder if he's punishing me for "punishing" Corin. At least when Arsheesh was angry with me, I knew it right away. He'd scream at me and beat me, and then it would be over. I _hate _not knowing if Father is displeased with me._

_Come on, Cari. Father isn't exactly one to hold back when he's pleased. What makes you think he'd do it if he were displeased? And here's a hint: If he were upset, he probably wouldn't have greeted you so nicely just now._

_Fine, but…even if he's not upset, he clearly finds Aravis more interesting than me. I suppose he would, though. She's beautiful, she's intelligent, she's actually working out of school books at her own level, she knows far more about high Calormene culture than I do, and she's good at dancing and _both _styles of sword-fighting. She actually has some things in common with her ladies-in-waiting, unlike me. Out of the two of us, it would make way more sense for her to be the princess._

_Cari, stop it. We've been over this before. _You _are the princess. For whatever reason, Aslan – or whoever – chose you._

_Maybe He chose wrong._

_Oh, shut up. Now you're just being ridiculous._

She sighed, picked up her washcloth, and began cleaning herself.

_If I practice very hard at my dance and etiquette lessons, maybe I can actually manage to get through the Narnian festival without making a complete idiot out of myself. Maybe then I can make Father as proud of me as he is of Aravis._

During the following days, Cari applied herself with renewed intensity to her etiquette and dancing lessons. She even managed to bribe Cor to stay after a few dancing sessions and help her put in some extra practice. Despite his constant teasing, she did improve, in her own estimation, from a wreck of a dancer to merely an unskilled one. She generally did much better in Morenna's lessons, but, in her quest for progress, managed to swallow her pride and ask a few of her ladies-in-waiting – who, after all, knew a great deal more about northern court customs than she did – for help. Fortunately, none of them so much as raised an eyebrow, let alone laughed at her, and after a goodly number of drills, she finally mastered the dreaded feast table settings, which had been the bane of her lessons with Morenna ever since she had come to Archenland. She also practiced producing all of the proper greetings to people of various ranks and was thrilled when she proved able to remember several of them without thinking.

In addition to tutoring her on etiquette, Cari's ladies-in-waiting taught her a few games favored by the Narnians. Corin was only too happy to help with this, since Aravis and Cor needed to be taught as well, which meant he spent many hours beating them at a variety of activities, then gloating afterwards. Aravis usually merely rolled her eyes and challenged him to another match, but Cor, who did not enjoy being taunted, sometimes threatened to knock his brother down. More often than not, this ended in a fight in which Corin knocked him down instead. At first, Cari tried persuading them out of this pattern, but this never helped, and so eventually she took to leaving the room in disgust and going to her own apartments to receive more courteous tutoring from her ladies-in-waiting.

_Blast it, _she grumbled to herself one night as she collapsed into her bed. _I haven't been able to read any of my library books for over a week. I haven't even cracked the last one I got, the one about the Nakorusian invasions – and I was so excited about reading it! I wonder if I should take it to Narnia with me, in case I have a chance to read it there?_

_Better not, genius. With your stunning ability to attract misfortune, you'll probably lose it first thing when you get there._

_True. I guess I'll have to wait another week or so to read it._

The next morning, the castle was a flurry of activity as the servants packed numerous trunks and bags in preparation to the royal family's trip to Narnia, which was scheduled to start the following day. With Mara's excellent guidance, in addition to some advice from her ladies-in-waiting, Cari managed to select the gowns she planned to wear over the following week, in addition to a few spares, should any of the chosen dresses get torn or stained. She also chose several pairs of shoes, capes, shawls, and jewels to accompany them. Chief among the last of these items was the necklace her father had presented her with just the previous day. He had told her he had commissioned shortly after he had ordered the first necklace he had given her, and that the two were intended to be a pair.

"It is tradition for the king of Archenland to give each of his daughters a pair of necklaces on her sixteenth birthday that he has had made especially for her," he had explained. "One necklace is for her to wear on any day she wishes, and one is to be worn on formal state occasions. Both have traditionally had purple jewels in them and otherwise been modeled on the girl's personality and preferences. I – I hope I have gotten this one correct. I wanted to have it finished in time for you to wear it to the Narnian Midsummer festival."

After staring at the necklace for several moments, Cari had been quick to assure her father that he had indeed gotten it right. _And he did,_ she mused as she stroked its solid, bubble-like silver swirls, the largest three of which were filled with three purple-and-white enameled flowers much like the ones on the first necklace her father had given her. Lodged in several of the gaps between bubbles perched bezel-set jewels, most purple, some white.

_I'm lucky the seamstresses delivered that new purple dress yesterday,_ Cari thought as she watched Mara carefully tuck the beautiful necklace into the jewelry box she would be taking to Narnia. _It will match my necklace perfectly._

_Right. You don't have any other purple dresses at all among your dozens of gowns._

_Oh, shut up._

That day's dancing lesson was nearly twice as long as usual, but fortunately the sword-master cut his session short, and the four siblings were able to get cleaned up before dinner as usual. _Thank heavens. No more sword lessons for over a week! My arms might actually be free of bruises by the time I return._

Cari spent the evening playing a last-minute round of Narnian games with her father and siblings. King Lune sent them all off to bed a bit earlier than usual, since he wanted the entire party to leave Anvard no later than an hour after dawn.

Despite Cari's extreme reluctance to get out of bed the next morning, and despite the general profusion of yawns and tired stumbling among the family, attendants, and servants, they left the castle only an hour behind schedule. Fortunately, the day was sunny and cool, which meant that Cari did not have to worry about trying to ride her still unfamiliar-feeling gray mare in the rain, let alone riding into Cair Paravel soaked to the bone. _That would do wonders for my efforts to impress the Narnian kings and queens. Ouch! I can feel it a lot more vividly when Naka trips than I did when Bren tripped. She's so much smaller._

_Oh, shut up, Cari. That's not her fault. Besides, she's beautiful and very gentle._

_I still fall off of her a lot more easily than I did off of Bren._

_Again, is that her fault? Consider your long history of what a very nice person would describe as clumsiness. Complete ineptness is more like it._

Around noon, they reached the pass over which Cor had traveled. Cari craned her head upwards and took stock of the tall, rocky gap. _Heavens save us. No wonder he needed help to get over that pass at night! It's broad daylight, and I'm afraid I won't be able to make it over._

However, despite the pass's dizzying height – not to mention the narrowness of the road scaling the mountains; the party's supply wagons could barely balance on it without tipping over the edge – Cari did not fall off of Naka even once, although she gave much of the credit for that to Mara and Maria, who rode beside her and kept her talking so as to keep her attention from the nearby precipice. By late afternoon, the entire party had made it safely through the mountains, and they spent the evening in a town called Beruna – according to King Lune, more humans lived there than in any other part of Narnia except for the region around Cair Paravel. The party camped out in the fields between the town and the adjoining river, using the richly embroidered tents the supply wagons had held.

As they were setting up the tents, an enormous black bird with a white head swooped out of the sky and dove straight toward King Lune. Cari cried out in alarm, but instead of attacking her father, the bird – _oh, it's an eagle, at least if my science book is right –_ pulled out of the dive just in time to land on the ground in front of him.

"Greetings, King Lune of Archenland," the eagle intoned, his voice steady as steel, as he cocked one side of his head sharply upwards. _Oh, right. I suppose it would help if he could see Father's eyes with at least one of his._ "Welcome to Narnia. I trust you and your party fared well on your journey here?"

King Lune offered the bird a warm smile and, to Cari's immense surprise, promptly dropped down to seat himself on the ground, bringing himself eye-to-eye with the creature. "And greetings to you, Broadwing of Narnia. Our passage was safe and smooth. I trust your family and cousins are well?"

Broadwing inclined his head, a gesture Cari took to be a nod. "Indeed." He slowly turned his head while simultaneously adjusting his body to a slightly different angle. "And these are the new members of your own family, I would take it?"

"Ah, yes!" The king nodded toward the four siblings, who had all gathered very closely around him by that time. "Cari, Cor, Corin, Aravis – would you join me?"

Corin, who had apparently met the eagle before, was sitting on the ground before the king had finished his sentence, and the other three quickly followed his lead.

The king turned back to the eagle with a grin. "My son Corin you have met already." As his father spoke his name, Corin inclined his head as the king had done. "The young man next to him – " here Cor's face reddened slightly – "is his twin, my other son Cor, who by the grace of Aslan returned to Archenland last month. His sister, my daughter Cari – " his hand affectionately brushed the girl's shoulder – "came with him. And the young lady next to her is Aravis Tarkheena, who journeyed with them from Calormen."

The eagle nodded to each sibling in turn. "Well met, young ones, and welcome to the north." Before Cari – or anybody else – could offer a polite greeting in return, he turned back to her father. "When shall King Peter expect you, according to the words I send?"

"Between the lunch and tea hours," replied King Lune without missing a beat, then grinned as he added, "but likely nearer the tea hour, as my children are not fond of being aroused very early in the morning." He winked at Corin, who, after all, had protested the most loudly at the unsuitability of that morning's designated waking hour, and the latter quickly reddened and appeared to bite his tongue.

Broadwing nodded. "Excellent. It shall be done. May the stars smile upon your rest, and the sun rejoice at your rising."

King Lune returned his gesture. "May the plains joyfully greet your passage and the forests sing at the beating of your wings." As he spoke the last few words, the eagle stretched out his aptly-named wings and soared into the air, quickly vanishing from their sight.

As they all rose to their feet, the king turned to his children. "I should have remembered to tell you about him," he said. "He and his people all live in the forests near the pass, and as their chief, he is one of Narnia's border guardians. He can see anyone entering Narnia over the pass, and he comes, or sends one of his people, to greet me every time I journey here. Whenever someone crosses the border, he sends a messenger to Cair Paravel if he feels it is warranted."

"Father – is – is that the correct greeting for all Narnian creatures, or only for the eagles?" Cari finally asked. "We weren't, um, taught it in etiquette lessons."

The king waved her concern aside. "I have always exchanged that particular set of greetings with Broadwing and the other border guardians alone. What Morenna taught you is more than sufficient for the other people you will meet here."

Despite the early hour at which she had risen that morning, Cari found it difficult to get to sleep that night. _Oh, for heaven's sake, I haven't gotten so accustomed to palace life in one month that I can't sleep on the ground any more – have I? It's been either that or my thin little pallet in Arsheesh's hut for the past fourteen years._

_Yes, and within one month – or close enough – I'll have met five of the most powerful monarchs in the world. And this time I won't have the excuse of having just arrived in the north to explain away all the mistakes I'm sure to make._

_Oh, stop it, Cari. You know you can get through all of the greetings – even some of the dances – just fine if you focus. Even Morenna complimented your diligence yesterday, and your ladies-in-waiting all said you were progressing very quickly._

_Yes, my ladies-in-waiting. Of course they'd say that; they're supposed to accompany me in all my entertainments, which might hit a bit of a snag if they called me a dunce at anything I learned. And diligence does not equate to competence._

_Oh, be quiet. Just offer your best curtsey to each of the four monarchs and say "I am most highly honored to meet you, Your Majesty" after each one addresses you – well, the two you haven't met yet, anyway – and the most important part will be done. After that, you can greet everybody else the way you greeted all the people you met at the feast the first night you came to Archenland. You know you can do at least that much._

_Yes, and then promptly step all over the toes of everyone I dance with._

_Well, you can at least try to do the best you can. You _have _gone through a few dances in class without making mistakes._

_That's dancing class. This will be a huge feast with a whole bunch of strangers watching me._

_Yes, but Cor and Corin – and even Aravis – make mistakes, too. You won't be the only one who does._

_And they're all fourteen years old! I'm older, so I should do better._

_But you've had only a month to learn all of this. Corin's had fourteen years, and he still makes mistakes. Besides, don't you remember what Mara said? Your mother stepped on your father's toes twice during their first dance together, and they ended up getting married._

_Ha. I highly doubt I'll marry anybody I meet in Narnia…Hmm. I wonder what sort of man I will marry? Father's sisters married high-ranking Archenlander lords, but other princesses have married kings or nobles of foreign lands – some even married commoners. But I hope Father doesn't make me get married. I don't want to be married. I'm only just getting used to life at Anvard; I don't want to give it up. And being married means you have to…Ugh. I will _not _think about that any more._

And Cari did not think about it any more; her exhaustion finally trumped her troubled thoughts, and she fell fast asleep.

The following morning, the party awoke – mercifully later than they had on the previous day – and breakfasted on bread and fruit from the supply wagons before breaking camp and heading north and east toward Cair Paravel. During the next several hours, Cari's wide eyes took in green- and gold-crowned trees, swirling creeks and brooks, and waves of the lovely northern flowers she had first seen on her journey into Archenland. She also learned to become accustomed to the various talking animals who rushed out of their trees and caves to greet her father, who was apparently very well-liked by his neighbors. Each time, he introduced the animals to Cor, Aravis, and Cari, who managed to hide their surprise long enough to offer polite greetings. _I think I'm doing it right, too; Corin hasn't snickered at me behind his hand even once._

Eventually, their path broadened into a wide, stone-lined road, and Cari gradually became aware of a noise she hadn't heard in over a month. _We're near the ocean!_ she exulted inwardly; sure enough, the scattered trees around them gave away before a rolling plain, and the road descended in a broad curve that ended in a magnificent, glistening white stone structure with more towers than Cari could count. Before it sprawled a vast, walled courtyard, and behind it sparkled a watery horizon every bit as blue as she remembered from her days in Calormen.

However, her eyes did not focus on the ocean for very long; rather, she spent most of the journey's remaining few miles staring wide-eyed at Cair Paravel. _Not even the palace complex in Tashbaan had this many towers – maybe more domes, but nowhere near this many dozen towers! And they're so perfectly capped – it can't be with silver, or they'd shine like the dome in Tashbaan. It doesn't strike me as plain stone, though. And come to think of it, neither do the towers…could they be made of marble? Yes, I think they are, although it looks different somehow from the marble buildings I saw in Calormen. It's a bit grayer. Wait a moment…could that possibly be _silver _marble? It's supposed to be even rarer than red marble – not to mention ten times stronger! No wonder Aravis said the Tisroc was reluctant to attack Narnia directly. I wonder if this castle has ever been taken by an enemy._

_Of course it has, genius. Do you not remember that Narnia was ruled by an evil witch for a hundred years? In order to do that, she must have defeated whoever ruled the country before that, so it would follow that she had to have taken this castle…or did she? I need to get a book on Narnian history from the library when I get back home to Anvard._

Cari was still deep in the midst of her thoughts when the group pulled up in front of the castle's massive wooden gates, which she did manage to notice were carved and stained to different hues in lovely designs depicting all manner of flora and fauna. Then a booming voice from several yards ahead of her startled out of her musings entirely.

"Greetings!" it proclaimed, and Cari had to lean far to her left in order to see that it belonged to what initially appeared to be a point-eared, unusually tall man before he moved, causing her gaze to shift immediately to his – _hooves? Oh, heaven save me, he's a centaur. And he's even bigger than the ones I met on my first day in Archenland._

"Greetings to you as well, Sir Hippolytus, from King Lune of Archenland," her father was saying when she managed to shake herself out of her thoughts. "I come at the invitation of the High King of Narnia, to participate in the Midsummer festival, and I bring my family and attendants with me."

The centaur offered a solemn bow, and his companion on the other side of the gate, whom Cari had just then noticed, mirrored his actions exactly.

"We salute you, king of Archenland," intoned Sir Hippolytus. "May Aslan bless your sojourn here."

"May He always cause the sun to shine upon you and yours," replied the king, and without further ado, the centaurs opened the gates to admit the entire party.

_Oh, lovely. I wonder how many more of these "greetings-to-him-alone" Father knows that I haven't been taught?_

However, as soon as Cari saw the courtyard, she quickly stopped worrying about that particular point of protocol, for in front of her eyes spread a vast garden of silver marble splashed with bursts of green, sunlight yellow, brilliant blue, deep rose, and every color she had seen in the fields on her way across southern Archenland during her journey from Calormen. Fountains tinted the lightest shade of the ocean below them bubbled joyously in harmony with the cacophony that had suddenly broken out around the party as several of what Cari assumed were the castle servants crowded around them to greet them, help them dismount, and take care of their baggage. Most of them were fauns, as Queen Lucy had mentioned, although a few were exceptionally beautiful girls whose pointed ears and long limbs marked them as the naiads and dryads about whom Cari had learned since her arrival in Archenland. Mara and Maria, along with Treya, Mariel, and the other Archenlander servants, also pitched in to help with the unloading.

Even as Cari dismounted from Naka, thanked the servants who had assisted her, and straightened her slate-blue skirts, her eyes continued to take in the splendor around her – and above her. _Some of those towers must be thirty yards tall! And is that inlaid silver in the roof of that tower over there? No wonder those roofs didn't look like they were constructed of plain stone. They weren't._

Cor's elbow jarred her out of her awe, and she quickly brought her head down to stare straight in front of her at the four spectacularly garbed figures descending the castle's front steps onto the broad patio a step above the courtyard. It was flanked by two fountains, each mounted the figure of a Lion in the center with the water spraying out of its mouth. However, Cari had no time to do more than glance at them, for ahead of her, her father had stepped up onto the patio, and she had to hurry to catch up with her siblings and follow suit. By then she could clearly see the four people in front of them. Two were King Edmund and Queen Lucy. Cari did not recognize the man and woman between them, but knew they must be High King Peter and Queen Susan.

The two parties stopped a few feet from each other, and King Lune bowed. His children and Aravis quickly followed suit, as did all four Narnian monarchs. When Cari raised her head, it was to see her father stride forward in tandem with the High King, who spoke first.

"Greetings, Lune," he announced, his warm, deep voice matching the genuine smile on his face. "Welcome back to Cair Paravel. I trust you had a safe and peaceful journey?"

"Indeed," replied her father, his customary jovial grin gracing his face. "I must say you are looking well, Peter. There must be something in the air where the giants live."

The younger man's face split into a matching grin. "Among other things." He inclined his head ever so slightly to the king's side. "I see you have brought your entire family."

"Ah, yes." The dizzily happy look Cari had seen on the day she had reached Archenland returned to her father's face. "Although I believe you know this rascal already." He ruffled Corin's hair briefly, and the boy's face reddened, even as he bowed. "And this – " he reached over to touch Cor's shoulder affectionately – "is my other son, Cor. Cor, meet the High King Peter of Narnia and his sister, the Queen Susan." Once Cor had dropped a slightly clumsier bow and been answered by similar gestures from the king and queen, King Lune introduced Aravis, who offered up her usual perfect curtsey.

"And this – " here her father's warm hand on her arm calmed Cari's frantically beating heart ever so slightly – "is my eldest child, my daughter Carisa. Cari – High King Peter and Queen Susan of Narnia."

Up until then, the king's sturdy body had blocked Cari's view of the Narnian monarchs a bit, but as he stepped back to allow her to greet them, she got her first good look. A few feet to her right and in front of her stood a petite, navy-robed beauty whose ice-blue eyes contrasted strikingly with the dark waves covering her back and shoulders beneath the gold-flowered circlet embracing her head.

"Princess Carisa," she said in the same soft, cultured voice she had used to greet Cor and Aravis, "it is a pleasure to meet you at last."

Cari tried to stifle her shaking as much as possible and succeeded in offering up what she deemed a passable curtsey, the best she could hope for under the circumstances. "I am most highly honored to meet you, Your Majesty," she replied softly but understandably.

Queen Susan's gentle smile reassured Cari that she had passed her first test without disaster. "Welcome to Cair Paravel, Princess. As soon as you feel ready to do so, you may address me as 'Queen Susan,' or 'Susan,' if you wish, as your royal father and brother do." Cari could have sworn the queen graced Corin with the slightest of winks out of her left eye as she said it.

Before Cari could stammer out an answer, the High King spoke from his place to his sister's right. "It is also my pleasure to meet you, Princess Carisa." He gently took her right hand, which she had fortunately remembered to extend, and brushed his lips across the back of it.

As he let go of her hand, Cari shifted her head slightly and got her first good look at the tallest, most golden-haired man she had ever seen. His light blue eyes, blended with a shade of silver, matched his silver-trimmed blue robes almost perfectly. During the few brief moments Cari dared to look at them, she decided that they did not twinkle with mischief like his brother's sparkling brown eyes, but shone with a steady good humor. For reasons she could not articulate, this only daunted her more. _Maybe it's because my hand is still shaking from when he kissed it. I will not get used to that form of greeting any time soon._

_Cari, the High King of Narnia has just addressed you. How about you respond to him properly, as you've practiced doing for the past month?_

"I – " _You are not_ _going to repeat the "I," Cari. You will _not _stutter in front of him! – _"am most highly honored to meet you, Your Majesty," she managed, shakily but still discernibly, as she dropped her curtsey.

As she rose, Cari noticed a brief confusion passing through the king's eyes. Then it dawned on her.

She had just greeted the High King of Narnia with one of the clumsiest Calormene curtsies she had ever performed.

Cari felt the nearly burgundy redness claim her face within seconds. _This has to be a nightmare. I cannot possibly have just done that. I can_not_, blast it – no, double, triple, quadruple blast it! Cari, you complete blithering idiot!_

"I – " she fairly squeaked. _Oh, no, you don't, Cari. You will not compound your stupidity any further. You will not shame your father any more. You _will _get yourself – and your voice – under control _now_._ After a deep, shaky breath, she continued. "I am so sorry, Your Majesty." Without daring to look back up at him, she dropped another curtsey, this one still not entirely graceful but at least decidedly northern. _And you _will _look at him like the princess you are, not melt with shame like a coward._ Biting her tongue, she forced herself to glance up into the blue gaze a foot above her. Expecting anger, or at least disgust, she was surprised to see a blend of kindliness and confusion, paired with the faintest glimmer of amusement.

"Think nothing of it, Princess Carisa." The young king graced her with a slight smile. "Welcome to Cair Paravel. Like my siblings, I would be more than content to have you call me 'King Peter' or 'Peter.'"

Carisa quickly dropped a second curtsey. "Thank you, Your Majesty." _And he just told you not to call him that, Cari. Wonderful job._

King Peter, however, did not seem offended in the least. "You are most welcome, Princess." He turned back to King Lune, and Cari let out a long inward sigh of relief.

"Please come in," the young king continued. "The tea hour is at hand, and I presume you will not mind refreshments after your long journey." Here he turned to Corin and gave him the same half-wink his sister had offered the boy earlier. This time, though, Corin fairly smirked.

After exchanging hugs and handshakes with King Edmund and Queen Lucy, the latter fairly bouncing up and down with excitement, the Archenlanders were ushered through the monstrous double doors into the marble entrance hall. Like its counterpart in Anvard, the expansive room was studded with many pillars; unlike the other, it was formed out of pure marble, with multicolored mosaics also made of marble adorning its walls instead of tapestries. The pillars, made of white instead of silver marble, boasted lovely swirled designs made of inlaid silver. Statues of white and silver marble alike lined the room, and above them, among the pillars, danced drapings of fine, nearly transparent fabrics in soft shades of blue, teal, white, gold, and silver. Many doors led out of it, the largest a set almost exactly like the pair they had just passed through.

King Peter, however, did not lead the family through those doors. Instead, he turned to the left and opened a small, carved singleton that led into another spacious, mosaic-laden marble hallway. Through another door he went, and Cari followed the others through it to discover a chamber slightly larger than the solar at Anvard. A row of tall windows with curved arches that pointed at the top lined the far wall, and between them drifted drapes of the same fabrics Cari had seen in the entrance hall. In the middle sat a whitewashed wooden table, its legs – along with those of its matching chairs – cunningly carved to resemble interlaced, leaf-laden, silver-trimmed vines. A blonde-haired female faun was just setting the last of several silver dishes on the table.

"Your Majesties and Your Highnesses," she offered, along with a deep curtsey.

"Thank you, Nia," replied Queen Susan graciously, then cocked her head. "But were your duties not supposed to end before tea-time? I thought Tetra was going to begin hers again today."

Nia shook her head regretfully. "No, Queen Susan. She relapsed earlier today."

The queen's brow furrowed in concern. "That is no good. Has Sir Pennock seen her again, then?"

The faun shook her head again. "No, Queen Susan, not yet."

Queen Susan tilted her head very slightly, then turned to her sister. "Lucy, would you mind – ?"

Queen Lucy had opened her mouth at almost the same time as her sister. "Of course not, Su. I'll head there right after tea."

The faun curtseyed again. "My thanks, Your Majesties."

Queen Susan graced her with a slight nod. "Of course, Nia. And please consider yourself relieved of your duties as of the end of tea hour. You have overworked yourself this week. I am sure Quenna has more assistants than she can handle today; any one of them should be capable of filling in for you."

"Yes, Queen Susan. Thank you, Queen Susan." The faun curtseyed again and left the room.

Fortunately, Cari managed to seat herself without tripping or falling. Unfortunately, she found herself assigned the seat directly across from the High King. _Why am I always so unlucky? Now I have to spend the tea hour right smack in front of the greatest living reminder of the fact that I cannot keep my head on straight or avoid making mistakes all over the place, no matter how hard I try!_

However, the king refrained from mentioning Cari's unfortunate breaches of protocol, and indeed asked her only two polite questions over the course of the hour, to which she returned two equally polite answers. Both were as short as she could make them and preceded by very long, deep breaths, but she managed not to humiliate herself any further, at least according to her own estimation. _Small comfort, though, seeing as how I've already managed to humiliate myself enough – and how accomplished Aravis is at all of this courtly small talk. She really _should _be the princess instead of me. No wonder Father enjoys spending time with her._ So absorbed was she in her thoughts that she did not truly taste the delightfully sweet cold tea in her glass, even as she drank it, and the lightness of the cakes and richness of the fresh fruit barely registered in her mind.

Eventually the tea hour ended, and King Peter stood. "Your chambers should be ready for you now," he said, and, turning to King Lune, "I presume you would not mind being shown to them?"

"Of course, friend," answered the king, whose already good humor had been much improved by the refreshments.

King Peter led the entire party out of the tea room and back into the hallway, from which he opened one of the several doors leading off of it. After many twists and turns, as well as several odd four- to eight-step flights, they climbed a large, broad-stepped staircase into another series of halls. The king stopped in the middle of one of these and knocked smartly on a door, which was opened by a male faun to reveal a spacious, carpeted suite with an enormous bed made of white wood and draped artfully with rich navy and gold fabrics. Dark-hued wooden furnishings studded the room throughout – as did a few more fauns and King Lune's own personal servants.

"Your usual chambers, Lune," King Peter announced. He nodded toward the next door down. "And your sons will adjoin you." After a knock from King Edmund, the door in question was opened by yet another faun to reveal similar furnishings, but with two smaller beds instead of King Lune's enormous one. Cor and Corin eagerly rushed into the room, with Cor lagging just behind his brother, who took a flying leap onto the right hand bed.

"Corin!" boomed his father's voice from the adjoining room. Apparently he and his son went through this routine every time they visited Cair Paravel, for Corin rolled his eyes even as his face reddened. To Cari's side, Queen Lucy burst out giggling, which caused Corin to redden even further.

Her sister rapped gently on the door across from the boys' room, and, to Cari's delight, the female faun who opened it was flanked by Treya and Mara.

"This will be your chamber, Lady Aravis and Princess Carisa," announced Queen Susan. "Also, the adjoining room will serve as your sitting room. I hope you enjoy them." As she spoke, she knocked on the next door, which indeed opened to reveal a mauve- and lavender-draped chamber filled with beautifully carved, linen-covered white wooden furniture.

"I am sure we shall, Queen Susan," Aravis answered the queen, dropping her a quick curtsey, which Cari hastily repeated.

Queen Susan's gracious smile tipped at one end. "Please do not feel compelled to curtsey to me any further, either of you. When your father and Corin have visited in the past, we have treated each other as equals. As you are part of his family, the same custom extends to you."

"Thank you, Queen Susan." Aravis did not miss a beat.

The queen nodded ever so slightly. "We will leave you now to refresh yourselves. Should you need anything, please do not hesitate to mention it to any of the palace servants."

"And when you're done," Queen Lucy put in eagerly, "would you like to come with us and play Jump-Crystals out on the terrace? It's such a lovely day, and you can see the ocean from there."

Cari, who was relieved at the chance to engage in a familiar activity, would not have refused the young queen's request, but even had she not been so inclined, the girl's wide, eager blue eyes and semi-pleading smile would have made it altogether impossible. "Of course, Queen Lucy," she answered. _Good. At least I can still open my mouth without automatically sounding like an idiot._

The queen's answering smile lit up her face. "Wonderful – I can't wait!" Almost before either Cari or Aravis could react, she rushed forward and hugged them both enthusiastically as her sister stood by with a serene, knowing smile. "I am so glad to see you both again!"

"As are we, Queen Lucy," answered Aravis.

Both girls were welcomed with almost equal enthusiasm by Treya, Mariel, Mara, and the perpetually bouncing Maria. All of them, accompanied by the two female fauns assigned to their rooms, immediately set to helping them wash and change into suitable evening dresses. As Mara removed the plain traveling circlet from her head and worked the tangles out of her hair, Cari slowly reclined and took in the rest of the room, paying particular attention to her bed, whose smooth white wood was carved such as to resemble a large bed of wildflowers surmounted by four large, twisting vines. Many of the details were etched in the silver tracery Cari had already noticed on the tea table. Mauve-and-silver brocade formed a canopy over the bed, which was covered with pink-and-white tapestries and festooned along the side with drapes of sheer, silver-trimmed fabrics in a lighter mauve. Aravis's bed, Cari noticed, was trimmed in a similar style with various shades of burgundy.

The wall adjoining both beds featured three tall, point-arched windows, each of which, to Cari's astonishment, extended at least two feet out from the building to form a cushioned, sofa-like seat. Each window was draped in pink, mauve, and burgundy fabric with the customary delicate silver trimming. _I've never seen windows like that – especially ones that just out that way. If I curled up, I could probably fit snugly in any of those seats. I wonder what the view is like._

"There you are, Princess Cari." Mara's brisk voice focused the girl's wandering gaze. "Would you like to take a look in the vanity?"

Cari, who had not even noticed the piece of furniture in question, turned toward the corner of the room opposite her bed and found herself facing a large, rounded mirror mounted on the white-and-silver vanity. Unlike the other pieces in the room, it was topped with white marble.

_I'm glad I got cleaned up first before I looked at the vanity. I would have felt dirty, since it's so silvery and flowery and beautiful. Even now, I don't look half so nice as Aravis. It's still an improvement from before, though._

Aravis's face suddenly appeared in the vanity next to her own, and Cari nearly jumped out of her seat.

"Oh – sorry, Cari," the other girl apologized, but Cari waved it away. "You're fine, Aravis. I'm too easily startled sometimes." _Most of the time, actually._

"Anyway," the other girl continued after a moment, "did you want to go downstairs and play games with Queen Susan and Queen Lucy?"

Cari gave her head an abrupt shake to re-orient herself. "Of course. Let's go."


	22. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know, I know – it was rather cruel of me to end the last chapter when I'd only just introduced Peter. This chapter contains quite a bit more of him, though – I promise! Please let me know what you think of it – good, bad, ugly, or otherwise. **

Just as Queen Lucy had said, the terrace to which the faun escorted Aravis and Cari provided a deliciously expansive view of the mottled blue vastness that was the Eastern Sea. It also offered a plain view of the height of the sheer cliff underneath the castle, which made Cari shudder. _Ugh. I have never been this high above _anything _in my life…well, except when I was on top of Tashbaan. Still, that was different. There weren't only a few yards and a wall between me and a swift, whistling death._

Turning away from the wall, Cari tried to focus her attention on the Jump-Crystals board perched on the marble-topped table on the right-hand side of the terrace. Unlike its counterpart in the solar at Anvard, this board was made out of pure white marble and filled with highly-polished stones that very nearly looked like actual crystals. Cari was delighted at being able to choose the pink-and-mauve set to play the game with, and even more excited when she won the first round.

"Queen Susan," Aravis began as they reapportioned the stones for the next match, "how is – did you say Tetra? – doing?"

The queen flashed a warm smile at her. "Lucy examined her and gave her a new supply of the same remedy she used before, this time in a stronger dose. She is already feeling much better, thank you."

_I should have thought to ask that,_ Cari fumed inwardly. _Of course, I am still not entirely used to being in a place where people care about their servants' well-being. But then again, neither is Aravis._

No sooner had their second game ended when Cor, Corin, and the two Narnian kings trooped out onto the terrace, having just returned from a handball match. King Lune, as Corin informed the others, had decided to remain in his chambers and rest until dinner.

"Oh, sorry, Su," were the first words out of King Peter's mouth. "We thought you were in the drawing room."

His sister waved her hand smoothly. "Don't worry about it, Peter. Good luck yanking Lucy away from the game, though." Her eyes twinkled as she elegantly tilted her head toward the younger queen.

Queen Lucy rolled her eyes at her sister, even as King Edmund smirked.

"Don't worry, Su," he replied. "With Peter and me both, it shouldn't take too long."

His sister narrowed her eyes at him playfully before her face blossomed into a sweet smile. "They'd never do anything that ungentlemanly, now, would they, Edmund?" she asked, jutting out her lower lip ever so slightly

King Edmund rolled his eyes at her, even as King Peter grinned. "Well, we do have company to impress." His mouth twisted at his sister's answering eyeroll before he turned to address all four girls. "I don't suppose I could persuade you ladies to agree to a tournament?"

_I'd rather melt into the ground, thank you,_ Cari refrained from saying, but nodded along with Aravis and Queen Susan when Queen Lucy enthusiastically accepted her brother's suggestion. The four girls then took chairs slightly farther back from the table and watched King Peter trounce the other three young men in short order amidst a bout of good-natured ribbing.

"Right, Su," he announced, grinning at his sister as he rose from the table. "Time to decide our next opponent."

Since Queen Susan had won the girls' latest game, she sat out the following round as Cari beat Aravis and Queen Lucy. _Blast it. Now I have to play against King Peter in the next round._ As subtly as she could, she chose the chair directly to Queen Susan's left as she rose from the table, instead of the empty seat between the two monarchs.

After Corin had won the following round against his brother and King Edmund and gloated sufficiently, he and the other three winners joined him at the table. This time Cari was unable to avoid sitting between the Narnian rulers, since she felt it only polite to allow them to choose their seats first. She barely managed to shrink into her chair, which King Peter insisted on holding for her while she sat, without tripping over her skirts and collapsing to the floor.

"Th-Thank you, Your Majesty," she fairly squeaked. _So now you're a dunce as well as a clumsy idiot. Did he or did he not ask you _not _to call him that?_ Drawing a long breath, she added. "I'm – I mean, King Peter."

Again, the king did not seem offended in the least; indeed, judging from the way the right-hand corner of his mouth twitched, Cari thought he might laugh, although he did not. "You are very welcome, Princess Carisa."

Seeing this, Corin glanced at the already-seated Queen Susan, and his face suddenly grew so red as to rival his sister's. Queen Lucy very nearly burst out laughing, but her sister took the situation in stride, rising gracefully as Corin jumped out of his chair to seat her.

"Thank you, Corin," she offered gently as the boy scurried back to his seat, causing him to blush even more deeply before he managed to lift his head and utter the obligatory, "You're welcome, Queen Susan."

The queen nodded graciously before mercifully shattering much of the tension around the table. "Shall we begin?"

Begin they did, and King Peter, after a protracted battle with his sister over one corner of the board, finally prevailed.

"About time, too," King Edmund ribbed his brother, who playfully punched him in the shoulder.

However, the next match stretched out even longer. Corin lagged behind the two girls almost from the start, and it took several skirmishes covering three-quarters of the board before the final exchange that led to Cari winning the round, leaving her to face the High King in the finale.

"Good luck, then," he said pleasantly, offering her his hand. Cari's eyes widened considerably before she managed to corral her astonishment and shake it. Try as she might, she could not keep her own hand from trembling finely in his firm grasp.

"And – to you as well, King Peter," she nevertheless managed as he mercifully broke off the contact.

However, her hand continued trembling throughout the first several moves of the game, and she was so flustered that she made an elementary error on her third maneuver, nearly costing herself the match. Fortunately, throughout the previous few weeks she had not only studied the game, but also discovered that she both liked and was passably good at it. Her skill and studiousness both came to her rescue just in time, as she managed to stifle the king's next few attempts to gain ground on her. In fact, within the next several maneuvers she turned the tables and began to play him into a corner.

_Wait,_ she thought suddenly, her hand poised over a bowl containing three of her stones. _Should I really make that move?_

_Good morning, Cari. It will get you that much closer to winning._

_But that's just it. What if I win and he doesn't like it? Everybody knows – well, knew, anyway, back in Calormen – that you _never _tried to beat the Tisroc or Prince Rabadash at anything, at your own risk._

_Come on, Cari. You've already beaten Queen Susan and Queen Lucy, and they didn't take it badly at all._

_Yes, but this is the _High King_! Besides, he probably doesn't have a very positive opinion of me to begin with, seeing as how I got so jarred by his perfectly polite greeting that I gave him a Calormene curtsey and have generally stumbled and staggered throughout all the rest of my interactions with him._

"Princess Carisa?" King Peter's concerned voice had lowered and become almost as gentle as his oldest sister's. "Are you all right?"

In spite of herself, Cari jerked her head up to meet his river-blue gaze, nearly dropping the stones as she did so.

_Cari, focus. Don't humiliate yourself, not to mention your family, any further than you already have._

"Yes, thank you, Your – King Peter," she finally replied, keeping the eye contact with some effort. Moving her hand, she dropped the stones along the alternate route she had spent the last ten seconds planning.

The king looked puzzled for a few moments, but did not give voice to his sentiments, and countered her maneuver with one of his own. When he won the game a few minutes later, he graciously complimented her, again offering her his hand.

_As long as he didn't notice,_ Cari thought, returning his congratulatory grasp.

Just then, Mr. Tumnus burst through the door to the terrace and announced the advent of more guests. The four Narnian siblings excused themselves to greet the new arrivals, and the four Archenlanders remained behind to play another few rounds of Jump-Crystals.

Shortly before dinner, King Lune led his children and Aravis into the entrance hall, where the guards let them through the enormous double doors Cari had seen earlier and into the throne room. Cari's eyes instantly gravitated to the massive, multi-stepped dais in the front and its four huge marble thrones, each crowned with a massive swath of gold at the top. _Well, probably each one, _Cari mused. _King Peter's too tall for me to see his, and King Edmund is very nearly so. _

All four siblings were engaged in conversation with Mr. Tumnus, who was standing in between King Peter and Queen Susan, but as the herald near the doors announced King Lune's name, as well as hers and her siblings', the five heads swiveled to smile at them. Before anybody could do more than that, the doors opened again, and in swept a middle-aged couple whom the herald introduced as "Lord Kenloch and Lady Tormyn of Lake Lynmere." They were followed by several apparent relatives, all styled "Lord" or "Lady" as well. Each of them approached the thrones and exchanged brief greetings with the monarchs.

"Lake Lynmere is some few dozen miles from here," King Lune murmured to his children. "More Narnian humans live there than in any place except Beruna and the three villages around Cair Paravel."

"Three villages?" Aravis's brow wrinkled. "Why not one larger town, as at Anvard?"

The king half-shrugged. "Apparently they have been that way for centuries, and the inhabitants wish to keep it so. When they were first settled, the northernmost village was for the centaurs, the northwesternmost for the naiads, dryads, fauns, and satyrs, and the southernmost for humans. The inhabitants have intermixed since then, but each village still remains distinct from the others." He paused a moment before adding, "The southern village, of course, has just recently been repopulated, of course, by the descendants of the humans who fled Narnia when the White Witch took over more than a hundred years ago."

_Oh, right. I do remember Corin telling us about that._

After the Lake Lynmere party came a few dozen creatures of various types, who, as far as Cari could gather, were representatives of groups of their own species within one region or another of the country. According to her father, it was traditional for them all to attend the castle's Midsummer festival as gestures of Narnian unity.

_Hmm. Like the harvest festival in Archenland. I should ask Miera if she has any books about it when I get home._

Just as Cari managed to tear her eyes away from the massive, scarlet banners hanging from the ceiling – each of which had a gold Lion sewn into its center – the kings and queens rose in concert from their seats, and King Peter formally announced dinnertime. He offered Queen Susan his arm at the same time Queen Lucy took King Edmund's. In like fashion, as her father had instructed them beforehand, the four Archenlander siblings paired up – Cor awkwardly offering Aravis his arm and Cari taking Corin's – as they followed the Narnian monarchs and their father. They processed through the massive doors on the other side of the room and into the castle's great hall, which, Cari noted, had to be nearly twice the size of Anvard's. Its walls were covered in marble mosaics similar to those Cari had seen in the entrance hall; they ringed rows of linen-covered tables laden with silverware, glassware, and dozens of steaming dishes of food. As her father had said he would on their way to the entrance hall, he led her and her siblings to the largest table, perched on a shallow dais at the head of the room. He sat immediately to the High King's right, and Cari, by virtue of being the highest-ranking female guest present, shakily lowered herself into the chair between Narnia's two eldest monarchs, which one of the servants pushed in for her.

_If ever a situation was made for disaster, this one is it. How in the name of all the gods in the – well, all right, how on _earth _am I supposed to make it through this meal alive?_

_Come on, Cari. This is exactly the sort of thing you trained for with Morenna. You're technically far less inexperienced with table settings and etiquette now than you were when you began your lessons. You did many drills perfectly with Isabel and Bianca back at Anvard. Therefore, it stands to reason you can do everything correctly here._

_Oh, sure. Those drills were for _practice_ – and I wasn't doing them around dozens of complete strangers! _

_I don't care. Focus. Breathe, eat as slowly as possible, or do whatever you have to do, but you will _not _make a greater idiot out of yourself than you've already made. And don't forget that Narnian monarchs dish out their own food instead of having their servants do it for them, so you'll have to take care of that, too._

_Right. That's been a great help. Thanks._

"King Lune," the High King addressed his visitor as he reached for the dish of steaming vegetables in front of him, "it is a true pleasure to dine with you once again."

The king of Archenland beamed as his friend dished the evening's first helping onto his plate – another Narnian tradition. "And it is a pleasure for me to dine with you as well, King Peter."

Cari knew her plate was next. Taking as deep a breath as she was capable of at the time, she carefully lifted the porcelain piece in her trembling hands. She gripped it tightly so as not to betray her shaking to the High King, who was now turning toward her with the serving bowl.

"Princess Carisa," he declared as he lightly spooned the food onto her proffered dish, "it is an honor to meet you and dine with you in Cair Paravel at last."

"The pleasure is all mine, King Peter," Cari replied as she set her plate down. _Thank heavens that I didn't drop it – and that I remembered not to call him "Your Majesty." _She let out a barely-audible sigh of relief before staring intently at the silverware set before her. Drawing a deep breath that was only slightly shallower than the first, she picked up the fork positioned farthest from her plate and scooped up a small bite's worth of the vegetable dish.

"Princess Carisa," Queen Susan queried a few bites later, "how are you enjoying your new home in Archenland?"

Cari, her mouth still half full of vegetables, held her left hand half-up toward the queen in the proper response for one who could not immediately answer a superior.

"Oh, Princess Carisa, I'm sorry," murmured the other girl apologetically, her porcelain face blushing the slightest shade of pink. "I should have waited for you. Please forgive me."

"Please do not worry about it, Your – Queen Susan," Cari replied a few moments later, after she had swallowed all of her food. "In any case, I find myself very fond of Anvard." _Oh, blast it. I can't believe it took me this long to remember what Queen Lucy told me when I first met her._ "This is due in part to you, of course. Queen Lucy has informed me that you provided some of your gowns for Aravis and myself, as well as assistance in planning the setup of our chambers." _So much for trying to imitate the high court speech in Morenna's written exercises. The Narnian monarchs can pull it off fluently, but I just sound ridiculous._

Queen Susan, however, apparently did not think so, or at least did not show it if she did. "My sister had a greater part in it than I did. You are most welcome, however." After a pause, she added, with a slight twinkle in her eyes, "I trust your brother Corin is not making you too miserable, however?"

The corner of Cari's mouth twisted upward in spite of itself. "No, Queen Susan. He merely – keeps me on my toes, is all."

The queen chuckled gently. "A very diplomatic way of putting it, Princess Carisa. Your etiquette tutor must be happy to have so apt a pupil."

Despite her best efforts, Cari reddened. "I try, Queen Susan." After a moment's pause she added, "Corin has proven himself a tutor as well, in all honesty. He helped teach us – that is, Aravis, Cor, and myself – many Narnian games we did not know."

Queen Susan fairly grinned at this. "I imagine he did. His mind is nearly as quick as his tongue and temper, and he has visited us frequently, especially over the past four years." Her smile dimmed a bit as she said this, as did Cari's; her mother, after all, had died four years previously.

After a short pause, the queen continued. "To help keep him out of mischief, as well as challenge his intellect, we have all joined at one time or another in teaching him many of our games. He has proved a very apt pupil – nearly as apt at it as he is in the sword ring, although you have no doubt discovered that."

"Oh, yes," answered Cari, reddening again. _As apt a sword pupil as I am an inept one._

"But tell me more of yourself," the queen continued, even as the servants came to replace the dishes of vegetables with platters of meat, rice, and nuts. "What subjects are your own particular favorites?"

Throughout the next two courses of the meal, Cari gradually grew more at ease with the queen, who proved an attentive and gentle conversationalist, and who also shared her interest in history. She knew a good deal about the history of Archenland as well as Narnia, and since the two intersected quite often, she helped Cari understand more about important Narnian events of the first millennium and how they intersected with the stories Cari had learned from an Archenlander's perspective in her own lessons at Anvard.

Halfway through the next course's array of sweet breads and cheeses, the two girls were discussing the battle Cari's mother had depicted in her tapestries when Cari saw the High King turn his head toward her. He politely waited for his sister to finish what she was saying before he addressed the two.

"Pardon me, Susan – Princess Carisa," he apologized. "I could not help overhearing you discussing the Battle of the Flood. May I ask, Princess, if you have ever heard the Lay of Arbior which the Narnian poet Callius wrote about it?"

Cari shook her head as regretfully as she could manage. "No, Y – King Peter, I have not."

"Peter," his sister put in gently, "she's been in the north for only a bit over a month. She's doing terrifically well merely to know about the battle. Master Dorian must be as exceptional a teacher as I have heard."

Cari opened her mouth at the very same time King Peter did, and was so far into her first word by the time she realized this that she could not stop much of her intended sentence from crossing her lips.

"Actually, I heard the story from my father when – " she began at the same time the king ventured, "Of course; I apologize, Princess Carisa."

As soon as she could corral her tongue, Cari bit it, even as the redness swept across her face. After a very awkward pause, she ducked her head before forcing herself to look at the king once again and manage, "I am sorry, Your Majesty."

King Peter shook his head. "Please do not worry about it, Princess. In any case, I got too far ahead of myself. My apologies."

"Accepted, of course – King Peter," Cari replied, biting her tongue to avoid saying _Your Majesty_.

"So which of Master Dorian's lessons do you enjoy the most?" the king asked after a brief pause.

"History, literature, and law, King Peter," answered Cari. _Amazing. I think that's the first thing I've ever said to him that hasn't been punctuated by an "um" or an interruption or a mistake of some sort._

The king smiled. "Then you are akin to my brother; he has made a special study of Narnian law, and headed its reorganization after we were first crowned."

Queen Susan's lips twitched at this. "Literature's more your area, though, Peter."

Her brother nodded, conceding her the point. "True enough. I am fond of reading and listening to the old lays, especially those composed by Callius." His soft smile refocused on Cari. "But I digress again, Princess. You mentioned that you are also fond of history. Is there a particular topic in your history lessons that strikes your fancy?"

Just as Cari opened her mouth to respond, her father, who had been conversing with King Edmund, turned to ask King Peter a question, which elicited spirited answers from both brothers. Cari spent the remainder of the meal alternately conversing with Queen Susan and peeking down the table to make sure Cor and Corin were behaving themselves. _Heavens only know I've made enough of a fool of myself to go around for all of us._

Owing largely, Cari supposed, to the fact that the dinner guests were undoubtedly tired from the day's traveling, the after-dinner entertainment consisted of both indoor and outdoor games; it was as yet a few hours before sunset. Cari stayed indoors playing dominoes and Jump-Crystals, while her brothers and Aravis headed outside with the two kings and most of the other guests for croquet and lawn-bowls. Thanks to her father, Cari met several of their dinner companions, and even managed to exchange small talk with a few of them without putting her foot in her mouth.

_Amazing, _she thought a few hours later as she curled up in the heavenly soft pink bed upstairs. _Maybe I actually _can _act like a princess – on occasion, at least. _

_Right. On any occasion when I'm not required to speak more than a sentence or two – especially not to foreign royalty._

The next morning, which was Midsummer Eve, Queen Lucy took Aravis, Cor, and Cari on a tour of Cair Paravel, which Cari estimated had to be at least twice the size of Anvard. This, she discovered, was partly due to several rooms along the western edge of the castle, which proved to be odd hybrids of guest chambers and elegant stables. Queen Lucy informed her and her wide-eyed siblings that they were for the visiting centaurs. _I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised at that. Still, how anybody manages to live in a place this big without getting lost every day eludes me. I can still only find most of the rooms in Anvard by remembering which tapestry stories they're located next to. And to think Queen Susan and Queen Lucy personally planned the room-by-room decorations! I am _so _glad I am not a queen._

While the young queen showed the siblings around, she explained the details of the blackberry mead- and juice-making, which were to take place that afternoon. "The four of us got up before breakfast this morning and went down to the kitchens to start the sugar-water boiling for the juice," she recounted, "and to sample the batches of mead the fauns made last winter to see which was best to use, and to bottle it. Well, Peter and Edmund did most of everything to do with the mead." Cari could have sworn she began to roll her eyes at that point and then quickly thought better of it. "So really, all that's left to be done is for the four of us to do the traditional blackberry-picking for an hour after lunch, then haul the barrels of mead and juice up from the kitchens. Well, the servants will help with that last part, too, of course. Then we'll put everything on the tables they've set up on the terrace, and everybody will gather round, and we'll drop the blackberries into the mead and juice and stir them, and pour them into our goblets, and taste them. After that, we'll ladle helpings from the barrels into everybody else's goblets."

Aravis's eyebrows rose, but she did not say anything. Cari, however, thought she must have heard wrong, and dared to ask, "I'm sorry, Queen Lucy, but did you say that _you_ – I mean, you, King Peter, King Edmund, and Queen Susan – would be the ones ladling out the mead and juice into the guests' goblets?"

The young queen nodded cheerfully. "Yes – well, of course, Quenna will help us. She's the head cook in the kitchens. And Neptune – he's the castle wine master. Oh, and the chief cooks of each meal, including tea. If it were just the four of us, it would force our guests and all of the other servants to wait for far too long for their drinks."

At this point, she seemed to notice the bewildered look on Cari's face, for she offered apologetically, "I'm sorry if I'm not doing a good job explaining everything. Susan's much better at this sort of thing, but I can try to do it better."

Cari quickly shook her head. "Oh, no, Queen Lucy; that's not my concern at all. I – I just – I am not accustomed to hearing of – of people of rank serving drinks to castle servants. Or – or of anybody but castle servants serving food and drink to the guests."

Queen Lucy's mouth formed a wide _O_ for a moment. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forget so easily that others have different customs than we do. It's thoughtless of me. It's just that the servants do so much for all of us that we figure it's the least we can do to give them a bit of a break, especially since they have such a huge feast to prepare for tomorrow night."

It took a few moments for Cari to regain her powers of speech. "Oh, I – I see. And I have never known you to be thoughtless, Queen Lucy. On the contrary, you put a great deal of effort into seeing to our comfort – I mean, Aravis's and mine – when we first arrived in a very unfamiliar place."

_Was I out of place to even allow for the suggestion of thoughtlessness on her part? Oh, bother. I was only trying to reassure her that she's anything but. _

However, Queen Lucy merely beamed at the reddening Cari. "Well, it was the least Susan and I could do. We both know – and so do our brothers – what it's like to arrive in an unfamiliar place without knowing what we should do or where we could stay." Her smile softened. "It was quite a bit of a shock at first, but over time it became easier – as it will for you." Her lips twisted then. "And if Corin tries to make it difficult, please feel free to threaten to send him here and have Susan and Edmund set him straight."

Aravis and Cari glanced at each other, and Cari suspected the younger girl's hasty cough had begun as a snort. Behind them, Cor's face reddened.

Throughout the rest of the morning, more guests arrived, and by the time the noon hour rolled around, over half the tables in the great hall were filled. Following a sumptuous lunch, Aravis and Cari went for a walk through the castle grounds. Thalmis and Arma, the two fauns assigned to their Narnian chambers, guided them through the lush flower and vegetable gardens, laden with fountains and streams, before escorting them along the beach. Cari marveled over the sheer variety of shells scattered along the shore.

_I had no idea I'd missed the ocean this much, _she mused, turning a lovely, elongated specimen swirled with iridescent pink. _I don't miss Calormen, but I did love living by the ocean. The waves sound so soothing._

Eventually they headed back to the castle, where Mara and Treya insisted on straightening the girls' hair before allowing them to join King Lune and the twins in the entrance hall and head back outside into the western quadrant of the castle courtyard. An enormous marble-topped table stood near the castle walls, and two small wooden casks, bound in ornately-carved strips of iron, stood on either end of it. Atop the table stood a multitude of bronze goblets, which surrounded four enormous silver ones, each studded with jewels in various shades of blue. To one side stood a carved, flute-edged silver vessel, and protruding from its brim Cari could see a proliferation of what looked like handles of large silver utensils. _Probably the ladles Queen Lucy was talking about,_ she thought.

Before she could take in any more, however, all four monarchs filed out of the main western doors and stood in front of the table before the crowd, which immediately quieted. They were followed by what Cari assumed were the six castle servants to whom Queen Lucy had referred earlier. Each bore a silver bowl brimming with blackberries, which they set on the table as they passed.

"My fellow Narnians," King Peter's steady voice rang clearly across the walled courtyard. "We are gathered here today to give thanks to Aslan for the passing of another plentiful year and to celebrate the bounty of the summer harvest, made manifest today in this fruit of the ground. As we drink of its abundance, may we never fail to remember who has given it to us – and may we never forget to thank Him for all of His good gifts."

So saying, he picked his bowl back up and gently emptied it into one of the casks. His siblings did the same, and each of the six servants followed their lead. Each of them took a ladle – _I was right after all_ – from the silver vessel, and they all took turns stirring the liquids in the casks. Queen Lucy, Cari noticed, emptied her berries into and stirred only the liquid in the barrel to her left. _That one must be holding the blackberry juice._

After several minutes, King Peter picked up one of the silver goblets and scooped a ladle full of mead into it. Queen Susan and King Edmund followed his example, as did Queen Lucy with the juice.

"For another prosperous year," the High King began, raising his goblet.

"For the safety of our land," Queen Susan's gentle voice lilted as she did likewise.

"For the fruit of the harvest," King Edmund continued.

"And for all of Your good gifts," Queen Lucy's girlish tones rang out,

"Aslan, we thank You," the siblings finished in concert as they sipped from their goblets. Judging from their smiles, as well as King Edmund's whispered exchange with his younger sister, Cari presumed that they approved of the drinks. Sure enough, at a few murmured statements from the four siblings, the six servants hastened to ladle the liquids into the bronze goblets.

"My fellow Narnians," King Peter announced, "please come now to the table and share with us in the bounty Aslan has provided."

The crowd immediately began forming itself into a series of lines; as King Lune had instructed them, Cari and her siblings hung back. "Royal guests are always served last at this event," he had said, "which, after all, makes sense, since the castle servants always get their drinks first."

_It's completely worth the wait, though,_ Cari mused half an hour later, as she sipped the sweet, spicy mead from her goblet. _I like the mead we've had a few times so far at dinner in Archenland, but the blackberries make this batch absolutely delightful. And Corin can't have anything but juice, no matter how much he glowers at me._

After the tasting was over, the grounds servants set to work getting the castle lawn ready for the following day's outdoor games. Cor, Corin, and Aravis all headed to the sword ring for a prearranged series of matches with some of the guests, while Cari was escorted by Arma to the library in Cair Paravel's basement. There she retrieved two books Queen Susan had offered to lend her for the duration of her stay.

The first volume Cari opened contained Callius's Lay of Arbior, and, despite her best efforts, Cari could not comprehend enough of the poet's words and turns of phrase to form a meaningful understanding of the material. _Blast it, blast it, blast it! _she thought, finally putting the book down in disgust. _How on earth am I supposed to be able to hold intelligent conversations with foreign heads of state – as I surely must do as a princess – if I can't understand the subject matter they wish to discuss?_

Hastily wiping the frustration-induced moisture out of her eyes, she finally picked up the second book, a simply-written history of the Battle of the Flood. This one proved much easier for Cari to understand, although some of the words were still foreign to her. Fortunately, her mother's tapestries and her father's explanations helped her to overcome the minor difficulties and better understand the material.

Just as Cari reached the account of the Telmarine-Kulonite muster in the capital of Telmar, Aravis came to fetch her for tea, which consisted of more and heavier food than Cari was used to, in preparation for the light dinner. As Queen Lucy had promised, the latter meal did consist of crackerbread and watered wine, but Cari, having eaten a good deal at lunch and tea, did not mind. Corin, however, went to bed – as they all did much earlier than usual – complaining that he was starving. Aravis headed off to the girls' room rolling her eyes at him.

A few hours later, Mara and Maria shook Cari awake and dressed her in her darkest-colored gown – a reasonably plain creation of navy-blue linen to match the simple silver circlet on her head – before releasing her into the hallway, where she and Aravis met up with King Lune, the twins, and some of the other guests. They all headed downstairs into the throne room, where the four monarchs awaited the arriving crowd.

As soon all of the guests had streamed into the throne room, King Peter addressed them. "We make for the eastern cove now to join the merpeople in song," he announced. "The way is lit, and the moon is full; nevertheless, please take care to watch where you step and ensure that you do not enter the water."

He and his siblings then left the room, processing down the aisle formed by the parting of the guests on either side of the room. As they approached the double doors out of the room, they each picked up a little box of colored glass lit from within by a tiny white candle.

As soon as the monarchs had left the room, the entire assembly followed in a winding line through the courtyard, across the castle lawns, and around some of the gardens, following a path formed by two rows of torches opposite each other. The soft _bwoosh _of the waves grew louder and clearer, and finally, Cari and her family emerged around a bend in the path onto the moonlit beach, joining a large number of Narnians who had already gathered there – inhabitants, her father whispered, of the three villages surrounding the castle.

_There doesn't seem to be as much sand as there was this afternoon, though,_ was the first thought that entered her head. The second one was, _Heavens save us, there must be more than two hundred people in the water!_

Sure enough, crowded together a few yards out from the shoreline was an entire congregation of people standing – _no, more like floating – _waist-deep in the ocean. Most of them were cloaked in shadow under the light of the nearly-full moon, but Cari could see the frontmost dozen or so more clearly. All had wet hair of significant length; the ones she identified as male had locks hanging slightly past their shoulders, while the females' streamed down their backs, save for the small braids woven among the circlets of pearls they wore on their heads. Most of the men were bare-chested, while the women sported light, wispy coverings wrapped with beads and colored, as far as Cari could tell, in varying shades of teal and purple. Their male leader, now conversing with the monarchs, who had waded waist-deep into the water to speak with him, wore a beaded covering of his own, as well as a matching set of arm bracelets, necklace, and circlet of glistening white sand spheres. The female beside him wore similar garments, though they were more delicate in make than her consort's. Draped over her circlet and necklace alike were ropes of shimmering stones ranging in shades from lavender to violet, interspersed with glittering bits of obsidian-like – _are they shells? I've almost never seen shells that glimmer black, though. _

Aravis spoke for her. "Are they shells?" she whispered to Corin, who was standing next to her.

The boy shook his head. "Pieces of sea-ore. It's like gold to them – you can't find it anywhere but in the ocean."

_I wish one could find it on dry land, _mused Cari. _In any case, though, it's absolutely beautiful._

So, Cari learned shortly, were the merpeople's voices. Almost human in tone, they nevertheless rang with a depth and an uncannily timeless, almost ancient, sound that made shivers run down her spine and goosebumps appear on her wrists. They matched perfectly with the songs of praise their owners sang to Aslan for creating the night and day, and for blessing Narnia for the previous year's worth of days and nights.

At the beginning of the fourth song, the Narnian monarchs joined the merpeople, producing a lovely blend for the simple, poignant tune. Then, just as Cari found herself thinking that the High King was not a particularly good singer, the merpeople began the night's fifth entry. A few notes in, the entire audience found their voices and sang as one in a rising hymn that made Cari's eyes tear up, even though she did not know the words and could not make all of them out. She did, however, manage to catch the refrain:

_Though day shall die and stars shall fade,_

_Though night arrive and quench the sun,_

_He speaks, and land and sea new-made_

_Spring up, for dark and death are gone._

As the final note of the last song died out, Cari very nearly screamed aloud, for as one the merpeople leaped effortlessly into the air, revealing lower halves that very much resembled Calormene dolphins coated in shimmering green-gold armor. They plunged headfirst from midair back into the ocean, and the next few waves to hit the beach surged up forcefully, nearly reaching the toes of the closest bystanders. Then the sea fell silent, and the monarchs waded back to shore, drying themselves off with blankets proffered by the servants before leading everybody back to the castle.

The following morning, breakfast was served a bit later than usual to allow the guests to sleep in. Afterwards, Queen Lucy fairly bounced up to Aravis, Cari, and the twins and asked them in which of the day's sporting events they planned to participate. Cari stood by wide-eyed as Aravis, acting as though she had been queried about the morning's weather, calmly answered that she would be running in the hundred-meter and quarter-mile races, as well as competing at archery, bowls, and tennis. Cor gave a similar though more halting answer, and Corin immediately reeled off a series of contests so quickly that Cari could barely understand what he was saying, although she did catch that he would be fighting in the sword ring. Then four faces turned to stare at Cari, whose face reddened instantly.

_Oh, blast it. No, _double _blast it! When Father said we could all compete in the games if we wanted to, I didn't think I'd be forced to do it! I can't do any of these things without tripping over something – or somebody – and otherwise making a complete fool out of myself. And heavens know I've done more than enough of that already._

"What about you, Cari?" the young queen asked expectantly.

_And I have to answer her and say I'll take part in one or another of those horrible games. Come on, Cari, think of something._

"Umm – that is, thank you for asking, Queen Lucy, but I – I am not sure that – "

"Up to conscripting our guests into the games again, Lu?" lilted a steady voice in a slightly reproving tone from behind Cari, who turned to see Queen Susan approaching them.

Her sister rolled her eyes ever so slightly. "Oh, come on, Su, I was just asking them."

The older queen, seeing Cari's red face, immediately gave the girl a reassuring smile. "Don't mind her, Princess Carisa. You needn't participate in anything if you'd rather not."

_Oh, thank heavens. But still – might Queen Lucy take it badly if I say I don't want to do anything? And what if I'm the only guest who doesn't compete? And Corin would _never _let me live it down…_

Queen Lucy interrupted her train of thought. "Of course you needn't, Cari. But I really would love to play at Net-Bowls, and Ed won't be my partner because I'm so awful at it. If you'd like to, you can play with me. That is, if you can stomach partnering with a horrid player; Cor tells me you're quite good at it."

That caught Cari's attention. "What – I mean, pardon me, Queen Lucy? I don't believe I have heard of Net-Bowls before." _What were you playing at, Cor? I'd expect a stunt like that from Corin, not from you._

However, the young queen quickly cleared up Cari's confusion. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't explain that very well. It's apparently called something different in Calormen, and supposedly it's played there by drawing lined in the sand instead of spreading a net, and throwing stones instead of balls, but the idea of throwing the balls into the resulting squares to create patterns is supposedly the same."

_Oh. Gridstones. Right. And Cor actually said I was good at it? What's gotten into him? And how many other Narnian games I've never heard of are actually Calormene games? Or is it the other way around?_

_Focus, Cari. Why don't you be polite and answer the queen who just addressed you._

"Um – I – I would be honored, Queen Lucy," she finally managed.

The younger girl squealed with delight and threw her arms around the stunned princess.

_Oh, brother. What has Cor gotten me into? What have I gotten _myself _into?_

An hour or so after breakfast, everybody had gathered on the castle's vast front lawn – not only the guests who had traveled there, but also many from the three villages around Cair Paravel. After welcoming them all, King Peter declared the games begun, and in short order, everybody gathered around the roped-off racing area for the hundred-meter race, which King Lune had informed Cari was the traditional opener to the Midsummer Day festivities.

The sound of the horn one of the centaurs blew to signal the start of the race nearly made Cari jump out of her skin, and she was no more than halfway settled down by the time one of the fauns became the first contestant to hit the rope barrier at the other end of the racecourse. Aravis and Corin, who also ran but came nowhere near winning, cheerfully congratulated him.

Afterward, everyone scattered across the grounds, as various games were held at once. Cari walked with her father to the bowling green, where he partnered with Corin, Cor, and Lord Kenloch – whom he had apparently known for some time – in the quartet division of the lawn-bowls competition. The four narrowly beat King Peter, King Edmund, Mr. Tumnus, and a centaur they called Oreius. King Lune fairly leaped in delight, exchanging hand-slaps with everybody on his team before turning and shaking hands with his clearly crestfallen opponents.

Corin pumped both fists in the air as he jumped off the green. "Yes! Now he's got to give us back all the wine! Ha!"

Aravis, who had come in third along with Queen Susan, Queen Lucy, and the latter's servant Jaela – whom she had indeed introduced to the Archenlander party the previous day – cocked her head and quirked an eyebrow at him. "Whatever do you mean, Corin?"

"Eight years ago," Corin explained when he had stopped whooping, "we came here for the festival, and I was too little to play at bowls, but Father's team beat King Peter's. But King Edmund had bet him they wouldn't win, and if they did he'd give Father the old bottle of wine they'd been saving for that year's Yule feast. Father did win, though, so King Edmund had to give up the wine. But instead of using it, Father bet King Edmund he'd beat him again at the next year's festival. King Edmund lost again, though, and he didn't win it back until the next year. Three years ago, the last time we came here, King Edmund won it again. Yesterday, I bet him another bottle he'd lose it this year – and he did." He turned to smirk at the red-faced young king, who was approaching the party, and held out his hand. "Is there something you have for me?" he asked smugly.

King Edmund rolled his eyes. "You'll get it soon enough, lad. And if I were you I should not try partaking of it as you did with your previous spoils."

Corin's face promptly reddened, and he became amazingly silent.

Cor grinned at them both. "That's one I haven't heard before. What happened?"

Corin's face fell, but before either he or the king could say anything, King Lune and King Peter walked up to the party, and the matter was quickly dropped. Cari shrank back slightly, but this proved unnecessary, for the High King, after a parting word to King Lune, left for another part of the lawn.

After a sun-drenched lunch of bread, fruit, and cheese on the terrace, everybody headed back to the games. About an hour later, Queen Lucy bounded up to Cari and fairly dragged her to the western part of the lawn, where the Net-Bowls competition was about to begin. Cari cocked her head and viewed the arena ahead of her thoughtfully. _Hmm. It may be made up of a fine white rope net laid across the grass instead of scrawls in the dirt, but it's still a grid, and the squares are about the same size as the ones we used to draw in Calormen._

"Here you go, Cari!" Queen Lucy popped out of nowhere, or so it seemed, with two balls in her hands, each about the size of an orange. She held one out to the older girl, who automatically accepted it. "These are the balls we play with. Is the weight similar to the weights of the stones you used in Calormen?"

Cari experimentally tossed the ball from one hand to the other. _Hmm. A bit lighter and a lot rounder, but I suppose it will do._ Aloud, she answered, "It will work perfectly, thank you, Queen Lucy."

The younger girl grinned at her. "Lovely! Would you like to take a few practice tosses?"

Cari did, trying as hard as she could adjust to the balls' differences from the stones to which she had been accustomed. Queen Lucy complimented her cheerfully before taking a few tosses of her own, wrinkling her brow and biting her lip so intently before each one that Cari almost burst out laughing.

_She's not as horrible at this as she claims she is,_ she thought as two out of the young queen's throws landed outside the net, _although she's probably not at good at it as Cor. And both of them are better than I am. In any case, I daresay Queen Lucy and I are in no danger of winning the match._

_Oh, blast it. There are a whole bunch of people watching us._

_Yes, Cari, of course there are. After all, Queen Lucy is one of the contestants. _She made a quick half-turn to see if she could spot any of her family members. _And King Edmund, and Queen Susan. Now I get to make an idiot out of myself in front of a crowd of people _and _three Narnian monarchs. Lovely. _

"Hey, Cari!" Cor's cheerful voice broke through her reverie, and she turned to see him and his twin bounding up to the arena. "Ready to have some fun?"

Cari managed a wan smile. "If you are."

Mr. Tumnus stood as marshal for the event and chose the five patterns the teams would try to form by tossing their balls into certain adjoining squares on the grid. Each team was given twenty balls, enough to form the elementary fourteen-ball patterns the faun announced. Cari sighed with relief; she had seen elaborate forty-ball rounds played in Calormen. _I suppose, though, that with at least a dozen teams, rounds of that length are not feasible._ The teams therefore were allowed six misses in the quest to complete each pattern; if they failed to complete one, they received a score of twenty-five points for that round. Otherwise, their score equaled the number of attempts it took to form the pattern. At the end of the game, the team with the lowest score would win.

_That definitely won't be us,_ Cari thought as Queen Lucy's first shot fell two feet wide of the grid, and her second toss fell six inches away. _Not that I was expecting it, anyway._

The young queen, however, took her mistakes in stride. She rolled her eyes after every failed toss and grinned at her sister, merely smiled and returned the slightest knowing shake of her head.

"I'm so sorry, Cari!" Queen Lucy exclaimed after hitting only two squares with her first seven balls. "I should have let you bowl with somebody better, shouldn't I?"

"Oh, no, Queen Lucy," Cari quickly replied. "Please don't worry about it. Besides, it's not as though I'm a great bowler myself."

"Nonsense," answered the younger girl. "You'll do brilliantly."

Cari did not do brilliantly – at least, not in her own estimation – but she did manage to hit four of her attempted squares. Her first two tosses landed wide – one three squares away from her intended target, the other a foot out of the grid altogether – and her fifth landed barely a square over from where she had aimed it.

_Not as bad as I was afraid I'd do, _she conceded, sweaty hands trembling as she headed back to her teammate, _although I'm sure Corin was laughing hysterically at the first two throws._

The young queen missed all three of her remaining tosses, which meant that even if Cari had hit all three of her remaining throws, they could not finish their pattern, so the pair automatically received the maximum score for the first round. Corin grinned impishly at both girls, but the smile quickly melted off his face when he and Cor also failed to complete their pattern in twenty tries. His face fell further when Queen Susan and King Edmund bowled a perfect first round.

Cari surprised herself by hitting five squares out of seven attempts in the second round – although Queen Lucy did so poorly that they once again failed to form their pattern – and eight of ten in the third and fourth rounds. _At least we actually got the pattern finished both times, _she mused as she watched Queen Susan and King Edmund throw another perfect round, _even if it did take us all twenty balls to do it. I wish I could do as well as Queen Susan, though._

Queen Lucy only landed four out of her ten throws in the final round, but Cari hit nine. Her only miss landed barely over the line in the target's neighboring square. Unfortunately, it was her last throw, which she tried twice as hard to land, seeing that it would have hit the final square in the pattern. She headed back to Queen Lucy with a bright red face.

The young queen, however, gave her an enormous hug. "Cari, that was amazing! You're a lot better at this than you think you are, you know."

"Thank you, Queen Lucy," Cari fairly muttered, "although I did just earn us five extra points."

The queen waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, nonsense! In case you hadn't noticed, I earned us about thirty or so."

"Technically, it was only twenty-three," Cari answered, still red.

Queen Lucy burst out laughing at this. "I'm sorry, Cari!" she exclaimed when she could speak again. "I'm not laughing _at _you, I just – I've never heard it put that way before." She gave the older girl another hug. "And you really are much better than you think, you know."

"Very well done, Cari," Queen Susan chimed in, joining them.

"And you as well, Queen Susan. Congratulations," Cari answered, for the queen and her brother had won the game handily.

Before the older girl could reply, though, King Edmund appeared by her side. "Still up for quoits, Su? They're about to begin."

"Oh, right – of course, Ed," his sister replied. She turned to the other two girls. "Would you like to come and watch us, Cari – Lu?"

Just then, Aravis, Cor, and Corin came running up. On their way to the quoits arena, all three offered their congratulations to the two winning monarchs, although Corin claimed he and Cor would surely win the prize the following year.

"You'll have to put in a good bit of practice, then," Aravis informed him archly. "Cari hit one more shot on target than you did."

Corin abruptly reddened, but said nothing in reply.

The games concluded in the sword ring with a series of wooden-sword matches. King Lune grinned proudly as Corin won three of his matches in the single-elimination tournament before falling to Lord Kenloch's eldest son. In the end, though, the two Narnian kings faced each other in the finale, a thrilling bout that lasted nearly twenty minutes. Even with her inexperienced eye, Cari could tell that the brothers had faced each other many times before; they clearly anticipated many of each other's maneuvers in advance, and very quickly blocked them more often than not. In any case, she doubted that even the swordmaster of Anvard could defeat either one, an opinion apparently shared by the younger ladies of the Lake Lynmere party, who had gathered in a giggling knot at the border of the arena. They clapped loudly at nearly every hit and parry, and every so often – too often, in Cari's opinion – one would remark to the others on the kings' swordsmanship and looks, the latter more than the former. Cari's eyes merely widened a bit farther when she understood what they were saying, but Aravis rolled her eyes and _humph_ed in annoyance.

"Honestly," she muttered as King Peter blocked one of his brother's attacks only just in time, producing a new round of claps and squeals. "They're just as bad as my friend Lasaraleen. She'd fit in perfectly here."

In the end, King Peter managed to dodge his brother's last blow and stick one of his own squarely in the center of the latter's chest. The entire audience – the lake-girls especially – applauded loudly, and after the brothers took the traditional post-match bows, the High King declared the day's games officially over.

As they headed back to the castle's southern terrace for tea, Cari noticed a disgruntled-looking Corin take a few bronze farthings out of the pouch at his waist and hand them to Cor. Aravis shook her head and grinned. The twins, seeing Cari's puzzled look, both reddened, Corin much more so than his brother.

"What was that all about?" Cari inquired as the twins ran on ahead of her and Aravis.

The younger girl's grin widened. "Corin bet Cor that King Edmund would win the match. He's been going on about it ever since we got here." She shot Cari a questioning look. "Haven't you heard him?"

Cari cocked her head thoughtfully. "No, I don't think so – but then, he has been outside most of the time with you and Cor, and I've been indoors."

Aravis shrugged. "Hmm. You should come outdoors more often; it's wonderful weather for riding and archery and everything else we've been doing today."

The older girl shrugged back. "I suppose so, but I found a lovely book in the library, and I got rather engrossed in it."

The corners of Aravis's mouth twitched. "I suppose you would. You should at least read it outdoors one of these days, though. Besides – " she broke into a grin again – "you can listen to Cor teasing Corin for the rest of the week. He'll never let him live that bet down."

Cari rolled her eyes again as they mounted the steps to the courtyard. _I suppose he won't. But then again, Aravis probably won't, either – especially not after he hid her practice sword under her horse's saddle the other day._

_Siblings. The greatest joys in life, they are. _


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Mara and Maria proved nothing if not thorough about readying Cari for the night's festivities. Mara even went so far as to advise Cari very nicely that her new purple necklace had been designed for more formal occasions than the Midsummer feast.

"Oh," was all Cari could manage. _Father didn't tell me that._

"I'm sorry, Princess Cari; I don't mean to overstep my boundaries," Mara added quickly. "It's just – a matter of general fashion protocol."

"Oh, no, Mara," Cari quickly reassured her. "You've not overstepped any boundaries, and I am grateful for your advice. It's just – I was not aware of that particular protocol, is all." She turned back to her jewelry box. "Which of these necklaces would be appropriate, in your opinion?"

They eventually settled upon a chain of enameled flowers studded with tiny lavender and white gems to go with Cari's new purple gown.

_It does look nice this way,_ Cari mused as Mara and a beaming Maria held her in front of the mirror after they had finished fixing her hair. _After all, my crown is mostly made of silver flowers, and the necklace Father gave me would have given it a – heavier effect than this necklace does. I still wish I could have worn it, though. _

_No, you don't, Cari. Going downstairs and looking like an idiot in front of all those people is the very last thing you want to do._

Before Cari and her siblings headed downstairs from their rooms to the feast, they gathered in her father's chamber.

"My children." The king beamed, and his eyes softened, much as they had when he had first greeted Cari back at Anvard. "I trust you shall comport yourselves with the dignity and courtesy befitting members of the royal family of Archenland." He gave Corin a long, meaningful look as he said it.

"Cor, Corin – " The king nodded slightly at both of his sons. "I expect you to use all of the courtesies Morenna – and I – have taught you, especially when asking a lady to dance. Should she refuse, you shall act no less courteously than had she accepted. Cari, Aravis – " he turned to the two girls – "Mistress Shona speaks highly of how your dancing skills have progressed. I am sure you will do wonderfully well. Do, of course, remember to be courteous if you refuse any invitations to dance. You may end up teaching your brothers a lesson or two." He glanced again at Corin, who reddened slightly.

_Refuse an invitation to dance? And risk angering the kings whose guests I would be refusing. Unfortunately, I can't._

When Cari exited the castle onto the expansive southern terrace, she gasped in awe and delight. The smooth white-and-gray stonework was covered with a profusion of marble-topped tables, each laid with silver-trimmed white porcelain dishes. Scattered among them were both ornately carved silverware and faceted glasses that sparkled in the gleam of both the torches that bordered the terrace and the glittering colored-glass lanterns set along the center of each table. _Just like the ones the kings and queens carried on the way to the ocean last night._ Tiny patches of colored light glimmered across plates and tablecloths alike in flickering dances that Cari's fascinated eyes could not help but follow.

A slight shake from Cor, whose arm she had taken for the procession out of the throne room, interrupted Cari's gaze. She quickly resumed walking so they could catch up to her father, who was following the Narnian monarchs to the largest table at the far end of the terrace. This time, to Cari's relief, she sat between Queen Susan and Aravis, rather than next to King Peter, as she had two nights previously.

After the High King formally welcomed everybody to the feast, he and his siblings briefly pronounced thanks to Aslan for it, and Cari was treated to a culinary experience not unlike her first night at Anvard. Narnian fare, as she had discovered during her first dinner at Cair Paravel, tasted sweeter than Calormene food as did its Archenlander counterparts. However, Narnians flavored much of their food, especially meats, with their own unique spices, and that evening's offerings had been steeped to perfection in herb-laden juices. In them, Cari tasted the light sweetness of citrus, the spicy energy of ginger, the calm earthiness of parsley, and a refreshingly heady air she couldn't quite define.

Once the desserts – largely fruit tarts, puddings, and a hard, rich, creamy creation Corin called "cheesecake" – had been consumed, King Peter rose from his chair to announce the beginning of the dance. He and his siblings led the guests out to the castle lawn, which in the space of a few hours had been transformed from a games arena into a verdant, torch-ringed field ready for the night's festivities. Between two concentric circles of torches stood a plethora of chairs and benches, and on the side closest to the courtyard, several long, linen-covered tables offered up platters full of food. _That's odd. We did just eat, after all._

_Yes, but don't you remember that Queen Lucy said this is an all-night dance? I'm sure all the exercise will make everybody hungry at some point._

_Oh. Right._

The monarchs and most of the guests stopped between the two torch rings, but many of the naiads, dryads, fauns, and satyrs went on ahead and began lining up into a rounded, oddly interlaced formation. As they did so, each dancer reached into one of the two large pots sitting on the far end of one of the tables and pulled out a handful of tiny, round objects. _Oh, right. The beans._ Several satyrs and dryads ran up from behind the main group of guests, holding an assortment of strange musical instruments. Cari recognized some as harps, and pinpointed some of the piped instruments as similar to the ram's-horn conglomerations she had seen growing up in Calormen. The little fiddles were almost identical to the ones her father's musicians used back at Anvard, and she could say the same of the range of flutes she saw. Then she turned her head and saw some of the satyrs and fauns dragging an assortment of drums up to the ring. _Those are enormous – I've never seen drums that big! I wonder what kind of music they'll make._

This Cari discovered in short order, for at a signal from one of the older fauns, the musicians commenced a bright, skirling melody punctuated with a merrily steady drumbeat. In perfect harmony, the dancers began to bounce and step in a lively, perfect blend of energy and precision, each one's movements propelling him or her gradually in a counterclockwise, circular direction. The first time they raised their arms and each tossed one bean through the gap between two fellow dancers – and no one gap saw more than one bean fly through it – Cari started and very nearly lost her balance, thanking Cor sheepishly as he held her up. However, she quickly got used to it, watching in utter fascination as the dancers kept up their steps without missing a single one or hitting each other with the beans – no small feat, given the speed at which they were moving.

_No wonder Queen Lucy said she couldn't watch half of it without getting dizzy,_ Cari mused ten minutes later. She had tried several times to follow one particular dancer through the complex formation so as to follow him or her all the way around the circle and understand the steps better, but had given up every time after only a dozen or so twists and turns. _My head is spinning faster than they are. I could take a hundred years' worth of dancing lessons and never be able to complete more than twenty steps of this dance._ She clapped for the twentieth time that night along with a visibly excited Aravis as the dancers took simultaneous spinning leaps and threw their beans over their shoulders – still without hitting each other. _Strike that. I wouldn't get past fifteen._

She clapped again in concert with Queen Lucy, who was squealing in sheer delight, when half the dancers ducked down and their partners leap-frogged gracefully over them. Beside her, Aravis's already rounded eyes widened even farther. _All right, fine. I probably wouldn't even hit ten._

Finally, nearly half an hour after the dance had started, the music's already-vigorous tempo quickened, and the dancers sped into a finale of whirls, twirls, and jumps that by themselves would have driven Cari dizzy. A chorus of approving cheers and clapping serenaded the dancers through the spinning, leaping finale and lasted for a few minutes afterward.

"Excellent!" King Peter's voice boomed out from startlingly near Cari, who stumbled backwards squarely onto her father's foot.

"Sorry, Father," she whispered, but he waved his hand and replied, "Don't worry about it, my daughter, as long as you are all right." She nodded hastily as King Peter declared the dancing officially begun, then offered Queen Susan his arm and swept her onto the grass-covered dance floor. Behind them, King Edmund did the same with Queen Lucy. Suddenly it seemed that everybody around Cari and her family was pairing up to join them.

"I say, Aravis," piped up Corin from beside his brother, "I bet I can dance better than you. Want to see?"

Aravis rolled her eyes. "Sure, you are, Your Highness."

The boy's eyes twinkled. "Too much of a coward to prove it, then?"

Even in the torchlit twilight, the girl could not hide the redness creeping into her cheeks. "Are _you _too much of a coward, then?"

Corin held his right hand out, and, after a tiny moment of hesitation, Aravis took it. The two promptly headed into the ring for the next dance, a jolly tune that was quite similar to the bean-dance melody, but a bit more restrained.

_Well, at least the dance lessons paid off for some of us,_ Cari muttered inwardly a few minutes later, watching Aravis gracefully sweep through the dance almost without a hitch. Corin also gave it a gallant effort and succeeded in making very few errors of his own.

"Blimey," she heard Cor mutter beside her, even as the dance ended and the relatively few guests outside the ring joined the dancers in applause. King Lune clapped particularly hard and graced the red-faced Aravis and Corin with a "Well done," as they hurried back out of the ring. Both turned at once to Cari and Cor.

"Well?" demanded Corin, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, what?" his brother replied.

"Well, who danced better, of course?" asked Corin.

Cor's face turned redder than his brother's as he glanced sideways at Aravis, who had raised one eyebrow at him. Cari barely caught a muttered "Blast it" and tried with dubious success to stifle her grin.

The grin, however, vanished as Cor turned to her. "I don't know; what do you think, Cari?"

Cari half-glared at him. "He asked you, Cor, not me."

She promptly regretted this statement, for Corin turned to her and said, "All right, then, Cari, I'm asking you too."

Cari narrowed her eyes at him. "Nice try, Corin." Her lips twisted into a smug half-smile. _Two can play that game._ "However, seeing as how you technically did not appoint either of us to judge your efforts, we're neither of us bound to answer you. I suppose you'll just have to choose a judge and start over."

Aravis burst out laughing. Corin turned red in the face and glared at them both.

"Would you like to join in the dancing, my children?" King Lune's jovial, booming voice greeted Cari and Cor a few dances later as they stood on the sidelines watching almost every other person at the gathering swaying to a strings-heavy melody.

Both siblings, who had started upon first hearing their father's voice since he had been engaged in an animated discussion with one of the lake lords several yards away, turned to face him entirely as he continued. "Mr. Tumnus has informed me that the next dance is a waltz; Mistress Shona taught you a good deal about it, yes?"

"Yes, Father," they replied in concert. _That doesn't mean I'm any good at it._

"Perhaps you would like to try it, then?" the king encouraged them. "It is a fine night for dancing, even if you only care to have a few dances."

_I would care to have no dances at all,_ Cari refrained from shooting back. Rather, she nodded dutifully. "Yes, Father." As the applause from the just-finished dance died out behind them, she tilted her head toward her brother. "Cor, shall we go, then?"

Both siblings fairly trudged into the ring, keeping as close to one of the rounded corners as they could.

"Come on, Cari," Cor groaned as the two fumbled with their hand and arm placement for the opening position. "We didn't _have _to, you know."

This got him a severe eyeroll. "Of course we did, Cor. Father wished it."

"Yes," returned her brother, "but he didn't _command _it. There's a difference."

"Hardly," answered Cari as they slowly began stepping to the music, both concentrating on their feet so as not to step on each other's toes. "If Father wishes it, we must do it."

Cor raised his head and grimaced at her. "What castle are you living in? Father's not about to go smacking on you if he merely suggests you do something and you'd rather not!"

"Perhaps I'd rather not suffer his displeasure in any case," Cari shot back.

Her brother reddened, but his expression softened just a bit. "Come on, Cari," he answered, his voice lowering. "Father's not like Arsheesh. He doesn't beat us, and he wouldn't in any case. Remember when Marek forgot to oil his armor the other day, and he couldn't wear it to practice in the sword ring like he wanted? He barely even frowned."

Cari sighed. _I don't want to fight with you, little brother. I just don't want to be on Father's bad side – if I'm not already. Even if he's not too upset with me for paying back Corin for the rat incident, heavens only know I've done more than enough to embarrass him while I've been here. And look! I just stepped on your foot._

"Sorry," she offered, but her brother merely shook his head.

"Don't worry," he grinned. "I'm sure I'll return the favor soon enough."

Cari stuck out her tongue at him.

Fortunately, neither she nor Cor tripped over each other, and both exited the dance floor with sighs of relief. Cari's was short-lived, however, for her father immediately complimented her on her waltz and offered her the next dance. Unfortunately, it was a faster one, and, although Cari had practiced it many times in her dance lessons, both the darkness and her nerves got to her, and she made several mistakes.

Her father, however, did not seem upset when the dance ended. "Mistress Shona was right, Cari; you have made excellent progress. Narnian dances are not easy to learn, especially when one has only been taking lessons for a few weeks." He beamed at her.

_Well, he doesn't appear to be angry for my embarrassing actions, anyway._ "Thank you, Father."

Cari dearly hoped her dancing was over for the night, but she was disappointed, for first Mr. Tumnus, then a few of the younger lake lords, also asked her to dance, and, as she had anticipated before the feast, she could not bring herself to refuse any of them, despite her discomfort at having any hands not belonging to a relative upon her shoulder and waist. This, of course, only increased her propensity for stumbling.

_Oh, I'm pig-roast after this, _she moaned inwardly as she stepped on the foot of her current partner, one Lord Menchel, for the third time in one dance. The young man winced but assured her not to worry about it when she apologized. He then continued to discourse on the structure of Lake Lynmere's local government, as he had been doing ever since she had asked a few polite questions about what life was like there and about the ranks of the different lords in the area were.

_Well, _she thought as he bowed politely and thanked her for the dance, _at least I'm learning some useful things about Narnia. Father says it's always helpful to be well-informed about one's neighbors, since knowledge is the basis for honest foreign relations. Still, I'm not sure it's worth all the tripping and having people's hands all over me, even if they are only in places deemed proper for a dance. _

Eventually, unable to take the thought of bearing another stumble-filled, nerve-fraying dance, Cari headed over to the refreshments-laden tables at the far end of the lawn. Along with Cor and Corin, whose appetites knew no bounds, she partook of a few of the fresh fruits, cheeses, and cakes there. _And the ones I haven't tasted, Corin has._

"Princess Carisa." King Edmund's voice behind her caused her to nearly drop her plate in surprise. However, she managed to catch it, place it on the table, and curtsey to him. "King Edmund," she said respectfully.

The king inclined his head briefly. "Honestly, Princess, you don't need to curtsey to me when you're here. We do not presume upon formalities with your father, or, by extension, with you and your siblings." His brown eyes twinkled. "Besides, Su would kill me if I tried to make you do it."

"I – I see, King Edmund," Cari managed.

He grinned at this. "And don't tell Su I make you call me that, either, or she'll kill me and then go to work on me."

"But – King Edmund, you're not making me call you that," Cari protested. "I mean – you said – not 'Your Majesty,' just 'King Edmund' or 'Edmund,' right? So technically, you're not _making _me call you anything."

_And I really hope I remembered right. Not to mention he's twice as smart as I am if he could understand all of that stammering._

But the king merely grinned again. "You're right, Princess. Which means you may call me 'Edmund' any time you want."

Cari nodded deferentially. "Of course, King Edmund. I mean – Edmund."

As far as she could tell, the king barely contained a shout of laughter. Then he retreated a step and bowed formally. "Princess Carisa, may I have this dance?"

Cari's eyes nearly left her head at this. _Is he making fun of me? _

_It doesn't matter if he is, Cari. He's a king of Narnia and your superior, no matter what he insists you call him. You have only one answer available to you._

_Yes, and that answer makes me pig-roast – if I'm not already._

"Y-Yes, of course, King – Edmund," she managed to gasp, dropping a slight curtsey.

The dance was structured after the same pattern as the one Cari had danced with her father a couple of hours previously. However, the heightened state of her nerves more than made up for the familiarity; both her hands were trembling as she placed them in the young king's.

"Have you enjoyed the festivities, Princess Carisa?" he inquired politely as the music began.

Cari nodded. "Very much, King Edmund." She closed her eyes for a moment as she felt her way through the next few steps, the most difficult ones in the dance, and opened them with mild surprise at not having stepped on the king's feet. _He must be very good at avoiding his partners' clumsiness, then. And he obviously has a great deal of experience at this; he practically swung me through those steps along with him. Thank heavens, though._

"I am sorry about that," she apologized as the music swung into an easier portion of the dance. "Those steps were – not very easy, and I find I do best when I feel my way through them without my eyes open. I did not mean to be discourteous." She bit her lip ever so slightly.

The king merely smiled at her. "Oh, don't worry about it, Princess. If that counts as discourtesy, I get ten times worse every day from Peter." He winked as he spoke his brother's name.

Cari thought her eyes must have widened even more than she had thought, for King Edmund was quick to reassure her. "He's only that bad occasionally, really. And only to me. Honestly, he's not too bad a fellow once you get to know him. As long as you don't call him 'Pete' – or 'Knucklehead.'" He winked again.

"I see," was all Cari could manage before the melody jumped by an octave, calling for the male dancers to twirl their partners. Cari got through hers without mishap, but accidentally omitted the next step and ended up accidentally kicking the king in the leg.

"Oh, King Edmund, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, her face quickly growing scarlet.

The king shrugged affably. "Don't worry, Princess Carisa. Again, I've had a good deal worse from my brother."

"He says you are an expert in the law, though," Cari offered a few moments later, feeling uncomfortable with the silence between them and trying to keep her mind off of King Edmund's hands, which rested lightly on her arm and waist. "He told me you reorganized the Narnian legal code after you got here."

King Edmund's mouth twitched. "Don't believe everything Peter tells you, Princess Carisa. He had nearly as great a hand in it as I did. He put me on the project mainly so I wouldn't have so much time to prank the castle servants and play on the mud-cliffs."

"Mud-cliffs?" _That's one I haven't heard before._

The king nodded his head toward the castle. "Along the northeastern shore. The autumn rains melt their soil into mud faster than any other place in Narnia, which I must say makes them a right fun place for certain sports." He grinned as the music ended.

"Thank you for dancing with me, King Edmund," Cari remembered to say as she curtsied.

He swept her a perfect bow. "My pleasure, Princess Carisa." He winked at her again.

Cari excused herself as quickly and politely as she could and headed back to the food-laden tables, where she nibbled on a few berries. Munching on a particularly sweet mouthful of raspberries, she tilted her head to gauge the position of the moon. _Well on its way to setting. Thank heavens. _

"Princess Carisa!" came Queen Susan's voice from behind her, at the same time as her sister's half-squealed "Cari!"

The object of their attention very nearly dropped her plate on the grass, but managed to recover and set it on the table before turning around.

"Queen Susan – Queen Lucy," she managed, curtseying once before she reddened and remembered to nod instead at the sisters, who were exchanging a bemused look.

"We're sorry to have startled you," Queen Susan told her after a moment.

"Oh, no – it's fine, Queen Susan," Cari replied.

The older queen tilted her head inquiringly. "Do you prefer to be called 'Cari,' as my sister called you? I would call you by whatever name you are most comfortable with."

Cari's lips formed a half-smile at the queen's earnest look. "You may call me whatever you wish, Queen Susan, although I do find 'Cari' a bit less…a mouthful." _Intimidating, _she had nearly said before thinking better of it. _Heavens only know these kings and queens do not need to see any further evidence of my weaknesses._

"'Cari' it is, then," Queen Susan answered, nodding.

"So how are you enjoying the festivities, then, Cari?" put in a beaming Queen Lucy as she loaded her plate with fruit and cakes.

"Very well, thank you, Queen Lucy," Cari answered, then added, "I have never seen such a large feast or such excellent dancing in my life. And you were quite correct about the bean dance." She nodded toward the younger queen. "It is a wonderful but dizzying thing to behold."

Queen Lucy grinned at her. "It's the greatest dance of the year – except for the snowball dance, of course." Seeing Cari's puzzled look, she explained, "It's part of the midwinter celebration, except that it's held on the Dancing Lawn."

"A few dozen miles to the west of here," Queen Susan put in, seeing Cari's brow furrow again.

"Right," Queen Lucy went on. "So anyway, the snowball dance comes after the feasting and all of the other winter games we hold there. It's much like we've done here – except that it isn't the first dance of the night. It starts at midnight instead – and it's a bit harder than the bean dance because the dancers throw snowballs, which are bigger than beans, of course, and easier to hit somebody with. You should _see _it – oh, Susan!" She turned to her sister. "Cari really should see it. We should persuade King Lune to come here for the midwinter festival, too. After all, he did miss last year's – "

"And I am sure he will have considerations to make before he decides whether or not to come, Lucy," Queen Susan put in gently. "I am sure we will all discuss it with him before he leaves for Archenland." She turned back to Cari. "We would, of course, love to have you here again this next winter, Princess – oh, I'm sorry, Cari. Along with your whole family, of course."

Cari nodded, one corner of her mouth twitching at the queen's unexpected error. "And I am very grateful for the invitation, of course, Queen Susan. I would love to see this snowball dance, since I have – well, I do not remember ever seeing a snowball, or snow, either."

Both queens' eyebrows rose for a moment before Queen Susan recovered. "Oh – right, I suppose not. Calormen is not exactly the coldest place in the world." A brief, indefinable look swept through her eyes before she continued. "In any case, we are always happy to see you and your family, and we would love to show you Narnia in the winter." She smiled graciously and looked about to say something else when Jaela, whom Cari recognized from her exceptionally curly graying hair and the rings of white hair just above her hooves, swept up to them, curtseyed, and apologized for interrupting before whispering a few words to the two queens. Both apologetically excused themselves to Cari and headed across the dance ring to speak to their brothers.

Cari looked up to check the moon's position again. _Even farther down. Good._

She quickly had cause to wish dearly that it had set altogether, for Lord Menchel approached her a few moments later and asked if he could get her some blackberry mead from the drink table. She consented to a goblet of blackberry juice instead, then groaned as he walked out of earshot. _Please move faster, moon. Please._

However, the moon took its sweet time as Cari spent the next half hour listening to the young lord describe his favorite hunting routes and expeditions. He told her there were large colonies of non-talking animals living in the Lake Lynmere area – an assertion confirmed by Lord Kennon, one of Lord Kenloch's sons, who appeared seemingly out of nowhere to offer Cari a refill of her blackberry juice. He began regaling Cari with stories of his own expeditions, which, if he could be believed, had been even more exciting than Lord Menchel's. The latter looked mildly displeased, as Lord Kennon did not give him much of a chance to get a word in edgewise.

As Lord Kennon paused for breath, Cari turned to her other conversation partner. "Lord Menchel," she asked politely, "are there very many dryads on your father's lands?"

_Dryads? Where did that come from? Cari, they've been talking about hunting. Not a very auspicious transition there._

However, Lord Menchel was only too happy to provide an answer, although a slightly stumbling one, and the conversation quickly became a competition between the two lords as to whose lands had the most dryads – largely, Cari thought, because both men considered the dryads lovely to behold. "Although," Lord Kennon had told Cari, "I find that their beauty still cannot compare to that of the Narnian queens. Or the princesses of Archenland," he added, nodding meaningfully to Cari, who stood motionless for a moment with her mouth gaping before she remembered to close it.

"Um – I – well, thank you, Lord Kennon," she managed after a few awkward moments. _Is he saying Aravis and I are more beautiful than dryads? Ha! Aravis, maybe, but me – absolutely not. _

"Good evening, gentlemen," boomed a jovial voice from slightly behind Cari, who turned her head quickly to see her father approaching. _Oh, thank heavens._

"Your Majesty," both lords immediately greeted him, offering deep bows.

"Father." Cari nodded, her lips forming a grateful smile.

"I apologize for interrupting what I am sure has been a stimulating conversation," the king continued smoothly, "but I am afraid I must have my daughter's ear for a moment. A good evening to you both." He nodded even as they bowed again, then took Cari's arm and gently led her away from the tables to the adjoining side of the dance ring.

"I hope I am correct in assuming you did not wish to continue the conversation, my daughter?" The king's eyes gleamed with an odd combination of protectiveness and amusement.

"Yes, Father, you are," answered his daughter immediately, then added, "Thank you very much."

King Lune's brow furrowed slightly as he replied, "I trust they were not treating you discourteously in any way?"

Cari quickly shook her head. "No, Father. They are only very – fond of the virtues of their own particular lands."

She could have sworn that her father rolled his eyes then for the first time since she had met him. He sighed slightly. "I suppose they would be. I should have expected something like that." He shook his head even as her raised his eyebrows minutely.

Cari stared at him, puzzled. "May I ask why, Father? Should I not have conversed with them about their lands? Morenna didn't say that was considered rude here…"

Her father waved away her concern. "Oh, no. You did nothing wrong, Cari. In fact, you held your own amazingly well. I merely meant that I should have anticipated that they would be eager to expound upon their virtues and holdings to you." He sighed again. "Should they or any other young men do that again in front of you, please let me know, and I shall have a talk with them – not to mention their fathers."

"You're sure I have done nothing wrong, Father?" _I've never seen him like this before. Then again, maybe he's simply displeased that I kicked King Edmund in the leg – among other things._

Her father's face broke into a warm if slightly distracted smile. "No, my daughter. You have done nothing. It is none of your own fault if a few young lords decide to play peacock for an evening to try and get into your good graces so as to gain – advantages – in any future suits they may make."

"Suits?" Cari's brow wrinkled even deeper.

Her father's face reddened ever so slightly. "Marriage suits."

Cari's eyes very nearly left her head for the second time that night. "_Marriage_ suits? But Father, I – I've only just gotten here!"

"I know," her father replied hastily, lowering his voice, which caused Cari to blush and duck her head as she realized how far her own had risen. "It is simply the way of things for potential noble and royal suitors and their parents to be very – aware – of ladies around their own station who are nearing marriageable age."

"But I – Father, I thought you said I wouldn't be considered – marriageable age – until my twenty-first birthday!" Cari once again had difficulty controlling her voice's volume.

Her father nodded, this time a bit uncomfortably. "And that is true, my daughter. However, many suitors – especially those wishing to court ladies of your station – believe that their suits are most likely to succeed the earlier they press them." He cleared his throat, then, seeing that Cari was still digesting what he had said, hastened to reassure her. "Which I can assure you is not the case. You are nearly three years from your twenty-first birthday, and no decision regarding – all of this – will be made until then, if not later." By the time he reached his last sentence, his face was nearly as red as his daughter's.

After a few very uncomfortable moments, the king cleared his throat again. "Please forgive me for causing you discomfort, my daughter. It was not my intention. In any case, please do not let this trouble you any further. Should you find yourself in another uncomfortable conversation, please do not be ashamed to excuse yourself to speak to me – or anyone else you wish."

Cari nodded mutely, although she wanted to protest, _But I'm not sure I even _can _excuse myself from – or refuse – anybody. It just seems rude!_

_Come on, Cari. Father said it was all right._

Fortunately, Lady Tormyn, whom Cari had liked instantly upon meeting her two days previously, approached them then to compliment Cari on her performance in the Net-Bowls arena that day. She gracefully nodded at Cari's slightly shaky "Thank you, Lady Tormyn," and changed the subject slightly by asking the girl which northern games she enjoyed the most. They spent a while talking about not only games but also Narnian history, a subject about which Lady Tormyn knew a great deal. By the time she graciously excused herself, Cari saw that the moon had very nearly set. _Thank all the gods in the heavens – no, Cari, this is Narnia, thank _Aslan_ – or whomever – that this uncomfortable night is nearly over,_ she thought as she once again made her way toward the food tables.

She never got there, however; her progress was impeded by none other than King Peter, who on his own way to the tables turned his head to speak briefly to his brother and then turned back just in time to nearly hit one of the torches. Swerving to avoid it, he accidentally brushed up against Cari's shoulder. Startled, she turned abruptly and nearly yelped in surprise. However, she promptly lost the ability to vocalize at all when she saw who had bumped into her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Princess Carisa!" exclaimed the king – who fortunately had not lost his tongue – even as he reached out and lightly touched her arm to steady her. "Are you all right?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," Cari replied as she curtsied without thinking twice. As she rose, her face promptly reddened. _Honestly, Cari, how long is it going to take for you to remember to call him what he _asked _you to call him? _"Sorry, King Peter," she amended hastily.

The king shook his head, even as the earnest, good-humored smile sprang into his eyes. "You have learned a great deal more during the past month than it is fair to ask of any one person, Princess Carisa. Don't be too hard on yourself for barely existent errors." The smile spread to his mouth as he continued, "In any case, my own error, I think, was far more grievous. May I atone for it by offering to dance with you?"

_Oh, please don't, King Peter. You're doing the very opposite of atoning, and trust me, you would rather not spend the next several minutes getting alternately kicked and stepped on. You won't enjoy it any more than I will._

However, she voiced none of these thoughts, instead giving him the only answer she could.

"Of course you may, Your – King Peter."

The king's lips twitched, and for a moment Cari thought he would laugh, but instead he offered her his arm, which she took with a hand that trembled worse than it had all night.

_Oh, I am pig-roast for _sure_._

Fortunately, the next dance followed the simple waltz pattern Cari had already danced with her brother, but her entire body still trembled finely with trepidation as the two took their position. _Cari, focus. Step exactly the way Mistress Shona taught you. You've had a few mistake-free dances before. _

_Not tonight, I haven't. And since when have I been in front of the High King without making a fool out of myself?_

Then the music began, and so did Cari's tentative steps. However, King Peter, like his brother, proved a very experienced dancer, as he gently guided her around in the slow circle the dance required.

"I hope you are enjoying yourself, Princess Carisa?" he inquired, the earnestness glimmering again in his eyes.

Cari nodded. "Very much, thank you – King Peter." _At least I kept myself from saying "Your Majesty."_

The king nodded. "Good. And I trust my brother did not prove too clumsy a dancer?" His eyes gleamed with what Cari could only term contained laughter.

Cari reddened slightly and shook her head. "No, King Peter, of course not." _Come on, Cari, he was obviously joking. You didn't have to widen your eyes like that. It just makes you look like a humorless idiot._

Her dance partner, however, took her discomfort in stride. "I am glad to hear it. He never fails to remind me how talented a dancer he is."

Cari's lips twisted into a nervous smile. "Younger brothers – can be like that, I suppose." _Honestly, Cari, do you _want _him to think you're insulting his brother?_ "I mean, _my_ younger brothers can be like that," she added hastily.

This elicited a broad grin from King Peter. "Then you are in good company, Princess Carisa. Corin did learn a number of his finer pranks from my brother."

"From King Edmund?" Both of Cari's eyebrows shot upward, along with her right foot, which promptly lowered during the next step of the dance squarely onto the High King's foot.

"Oh, King Peter, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, her face reddening at once.

However, the king did not miss a beat; both of his hands gently guided Cari into the next few steps of the dance even as he lowered his head to look straight into her eyes.

"Princess Carisa," he said, lowering his voice to a near-murmur, "please do not worry about it. As I said before, you have made far too much progress to fret yourself so much over an insignificant error."

_Not insignificant to me,_ Cari thought, but even as she did so, she felt a bit of the tension that had been plaguing her all night lift from her body.

"Besides," King Peter went on, "you should have seen Edmund's and my first dance lessons here. We missed more steps than we performed correctly." His eyes twinkled with merriment. "As did Corin at one time, no matter how amazing a dancer he may say he is." Seeing Cari's hesitant smile, he added, "We've all had to start somewhere, Princess. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Just as Cari opened her mouth to thank him, however, she stepped on his foot again. _Oh, yes, I do._

"I'm sorry, King Peter," she quickly offered, her face beet-red.

The king bent to establish eye contact with her again. "As I said, Princess, do not trouble yourself. At your age, I could hardly have done half so well myself." Holding her hand firmly, he twirled her twice in time with the music, then lightly dipped her to end the dance.

"Thank you for dancing with me, Princess Carisa," he said, offering the red-faced Cari a perfect bow.

She hastily remembered to curtsey, and even managed a slight smile. "The pleasure is mine, King Peter."

"I hope you enjoy the remainder of the night's festivities, Princess," answered the king, gracing her with a gentle smile.

Cari nodded back. "I'm sure I shall, King Peter."

As she turned once again toward the food tables, rubbing her earlobe unconsciously, she paused. _Hmm. Perhaps I shouldn't. They haven't exactly proven a refuge for me – rather a platform for my amazing clumsiness and stupidity._

_Oh, well. At least I only stepped on the High King's feet twice._

_Right. _Only _twice. I'll be lucky if the entire family doesn't get seriously upset at me tomorrow for kicking and stepping all over them._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: My review wall is getting lonely. Please help fill it if you feel so moved! As I venture into the beginning of the Peter-Cari relationship, which I feel is crucial territory, I would love to know how you, as my readers, feel I am doing.**


	24. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have recently read over several of my previous chapters and corrected a few errors I made as I wrote them. (For example, I went back to Chapters 20 and 21 and clarified the fact that there were no humans in Narnia during the Hundred-Year Winter, a point I left very unclear in my first posts of those chapters.) While I have read all of the **_**Narnia**_** books and love them, I don't actually own any except the first, so I'm working from memory most of the time as I write this story, and my memory isn't getting any younger. Please understand, though, that I am trying very hard to keep everything chronologically and "historically" correct – sticking to the major plot points of the books and Lewis's chronology is very important to me! As I head into the next part of the story, I will need to add a few of my own nations and events, historical and otherwise, that Lewis did not include – as I have already with Nakorus, Kulon, the Nakorusian invasions, and the Great Western War. However, I have done so only in order to aid in the development of the plot points that are unique to Carisa, whom, after all, Lewis did not include in his books.**

**As always, if you need to correct me, or if you like – or dislike – the creative license I am taking, please feel free to let me know! I value the opinions of my readers very highly.**

To Cari's immense relief, her father and brothers were the only men who asked her for dances for the remainder of the night. Even Corin's cheeky teasing bothered her very little; as in their dancing lessons together, both he and his twin took her mistakes in stride, as did their father, which caused Cari's heart to beat much more slowly and easily than when she had danced with virtual strangers.

_Oh, thank heavens,_ she thought as the sun poked its head over the horizon, painting a beam of glistening pink across the ocean water, signaling the final dance. _I don't think I could have survived another set of hands on me, not to mention another set of stumbles. And let's not even start on the number of times I've been asked how I like it in the north, or whether Calormene dances are anything like northern ones._ She shivered, suddenly realizing how chilly the early-morning air had become.

When the last dance ended, King Peter uttered a short closing speech, and the guests scattered, some to the food tables, most to the castle for bed. King Lune led his children, along with Aravis, over to the monarchs, and the five guests all bowed to thank their hosts. After that, they headed back to their rooms. Cari and Aravis barely kept their eyes open as their servants helped them to undress and take out their hair.

For whatever reason, however, Cari found herself unable to sleep when she first lay down. _Blast it, blast it, blast it! _she exclaimed inwardly, pounding one of her many pillows. _Oh, am I good at creating disaster. Maybe I shouldn't go to sleep; after all, when I wake up, sooner or later I'll have to face King Peter and King Edmund. I kicked them and stepped on their feet, for heaven's sake! No wonder neither of them spoke to me after I danced with them._

_Oh, come on, Cari. They didn't speak to the rest of your family at the end of the dancing, either._

_I don't care. They probably still think I'm a horrible idiot and not worth their time – if I'm lucky._

_Honestly, Cari, did you not see both of them smiling at you and hear them reassuring you that they weren't angry when you made all of those mistakes? _

_Well, they had to observe their codes of courtesy, didn't they – especially with all of those people around? _

_And so they'd probably continue being courteous to you in any case, even if they were angry at or disgusted with you – at least in public, and that's the only setting in which you really must see them. However, do you really think they would have actually smiled and, in King Edmund's case, winked at you instead of merely being polite if they had been so negatively inclined toward you?_

_Still – it just doesn't seem right. Arsheesh would have given me at least twenty beatings by now for mistakes this bad. And – oh, blast it – speaking of that, I wonder what on earth Father is going to have to say to me tomorrow – or later today?_

_You might try listening to Cor in that case, Cari. He's not like Arsheesh. And King Peter and King Edmund don't seem to be like him, either._

_They don't _seem _like that. But how could they _not _be upset with me at one point or another for being so clumsy? And what about Queen Susan and Queen Lucy? Won't they be angry, too, since I stepped all over their brothers in public? Blast it! I really like them. They've been so wonderful to me!_

_Exactly. Perhaps they're not any more upset with you than their brothers appeared to be last night._

_Yes, and perhaps I need to stop being so clumsy. Blast it all, anyway!_

_Oh, for heaven's sake, Cari. It could have been a lot worse. For instance, that giant – Rumblebuffin, right? – could have asked you to dance. You'd have been pig-roast if he'd stepped on you. Or one of the centaurs could have danced with you. They looked a bit scary, and one wrong hoof-step would have crushed your foot._

_And they probably wouldn't have stepped on me in any case. I saw them dance. They're spectacularly good. Of course, they mainly danced with each other – and the kings and queens. I've never seen anybody dance as well as they do!_

Cari awoke facing one of the bedroom's windows, which faced the ocean, and blinked a few times as she realized that the room was dimmer than it had been when she had awakened the previous morning. _Oh, right. It's probably well into the day by now; the sun is probably traveling over to the western side of the sky._ Turning over to look at Aravis's bed, she blinked again when she saw it was empty. _Oh, blast it. I probably should have been up by now. What if I've missed a meal or some other event I was supposed to be at? I certainly don't need to anger the kings and queens any more than I probably already have._ She quickly climbed out of bed and half-ran to the white wooden wardrobe where her gowns were hanging.

Just then, Maria came bounding into the room. "Oh, good afternoon, Princess Cari!" she exclaimed brightly, causing the startled older girl to whirl in surprise and very nearly trip over her nightgown hem. Fortunately, Maria was there to catch her.

"Sorry about that," the younger girl apologized sheepishly. "Mum says I get too loud and enthusiastic for my own good sometimes. Or other people's," she added, her face reddening slightly.

Cari smiled. "Please don't worry about it, Maria." She paused for a moment before adding, "Have I missed dinner, or tea, or anything else important?"

Maria shook her head, the curls that had escaped from her bun bouncing. "No, Princess Cari, not at all. I don't believe there's anything especially big planned for today. Besides, it won't even be tea-time for a couple of hours yet, and there's food out in the great hall for everybody to eat whenever they awaken."

Cari sighed with relief. "Thank you, Maria. Um – would this dress be all right to wear, then, do you think?" She unhooked and held up the soft blue gown she had been eyeing before Maria had entered the room.

Maria's curls bounced even more vigorously as she nodded. "It's lovely, Princess Cari. Would you like some help with it?"

Cari shook her head. "Just with the back laces, thank you, Maria."

As the younger girl had told her she would, Cari discovered plenty of food in the great hall when she arrived downstairs. Her eyes immediately focused on Corin and Queen Lucy, who were sitting at one of the tables – not the head table, to Cari's surprise – and engaged in an animated discussion.

"Cari!" exclaimed Queen Lucy, and as soon as the other girl had set her plate down safely, she threw her arms around her. "Good morning! Well – afternoon, I suppose, by now. Anyway, how are you? How did you like the dancing?"

Cari was too taken aback at first to form a proper reply. _Well, she doesn't _sound _angry._

_No, really. What a stunningly intelligent observation. I _told _you not to get so worried that she'd be upset with you. And don't even try saying she's just being polite; she wouldn't have hugged you in that case. _ "Very well, Queen Lucy, in response to both questions. And good afternoon to you as well." _It's not even a full-fledged lie; it's only half a one, technically, since I am feeling better today now that I'm not stepping all over people's toes – and now that at least one of the Narnian monarchs doesn't seem to hate me for it._

Queen Lucy and Queen Susan persuaded Cari and Aravis to go swimming with them after the meal at what they termed the "ladies' beach," a stretch of the waterfront to the southeast of the castle. They were accompanied by several of the ladies from Lake Lynmere, in addition to a number of the non-human guests and a good few of the castle servants. Fortunately, Mara and Maria had packed a swimming dress for Cari. Still, she lagged at the back of the gaily laughing horde when they departed from the castle. _What if there's some sort of water etiquette I haven't learned from Morenna, and I make an idiot out of myself in front of these strangers?_

_Oh, Cari, be reasonable. I daresay you've already made enough of an idiot of yourself last night. Queen Susan and Queen Lucy seem to have forgiven you for it – and none of these people seems to be laughing at you over it._

_Maybe not, but then, I rank higher than they do. And who's to say they're not laughing at me behind my back?_

But, rather than practice an entirely new and foreign form of etiquette, the ladies relaxed their court manners once they got to the beach, and at once began splashing and frolicking in the water. Several of them, led by Queen Lucy, detoured onto the two low rock outcroppings that flanked the stretch of sand and produced two large white rope nets, which they strung across the faces of the ledges. Cari let out a startled yelp as they all leaped into the water from there, Queen Lucy with a shriek of delight. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Aravis grinning beside her.

"She always has loved playing in the water," lilted Queen Susan's voice behind Cari, who turned around to see the older girl's eyes twinkling. "I'm sure she didn't mean to shock you, Cari; she just hasn't gotten very much beach time lately."

Cari shook her head. "Oh, no, Queen Susan, it's fine; I just – didn't expect everybody to go jumping in the water all at once, is all." Her brow suddenly wrinkled. "It is – quite safe, isn't it?"

The queen's smile widened. "Oh, yes, it's perfectly safe – as long as you jump feet first, of course, seeing as the water is not very deep there." She nodded toward the spot where the ladies had jumped; they, along with most of the others, were standing at a depth hitting between Queen Lucy's waist and chest, and were forming into two groups, one near each of the nets. "It looks as though they're about to begin a match of water polo. Would you like to join in?"

Cari's brows furrowed quizzically. "Water polo?" _Wait a minute. I know this one…don't I?_ "Is that the game where there are two sides fighting over control of a ball and trying to hit each other's nets with it?"

Queen Susan nodded lightly. "In short, yes. There are a number of rules, but I can explain them to you as we go."

But Cari shook her head. "If you wish to play, Queen Susan, I do not want to detain you. I am fine just watching, though, but thank you."

Before Queen Susan could reply, both girls whipped their heads around at the younger queen's shout of "Cari!" from beside the nearer net.

"Would you like to play water polo with us?" she continued, one hand on the net and the other extended toward her sister and Cari.

Cari very nearly wavered at the eager-puppy look on the young queen's face. _I can't, though. I'd make a worse fool of myself than I did dancing last night. Besides, some of the ladies are obviously not playing, so I'm sure it isn't considered rude to refuse._

"No, thank you, Queen Lucy," she replied.

"Are you sure?" Queen Lucy's lower lip became just a tiny bit bigger.

Cari shook her head. "No – I mean, yes, I am sure, Queen Lucy. Do enjoy the game, though." She offered her politest smile.

"Right," the other girl answered, the barest hint of disappointment in her voice. "Well, if you change your mind, we'll be having several matches."

"Thank you, Queen Lucy," Cari replied automatically.

"Would you like to just watch, then?" Queen Susan asked her. "Or would you like to play catch, perhaps?" Seeing Cari biting her lip, she continued, "Or would you rather be left alone? I know you've been around a great many people and a good deal of noise lately, and I know I appreciate being by myself sometimes after I deal with those sorts of situations." She paused a moment before offering gently, "I won't think you rude at all, Cari, if that's what you would prefer."

_Hmm. She really doesn't seem to be upset at me at all for stepping on both her brothers' feet last night. _

_Exactly. Maybe she really isn't like Arsheesh – and neither is her sister._

_Well, I didn't really think that. I just thought that perhaps they'd be upset at me for embarrassing their family._

_And they're clearly not. So why don't you answer Queen Susan, now that we've established that?_

"I – I would love to take some time to practice my swimming skills, Queen Susan," she finally managed. "It has been some months since I last swam in the ocean. I do not wish to become out of practice. I hope you do not mind."

The queen nodded. "Of course I don't mind, Cari. And, as my sister said, please feel free to join us for a match if you feel so inclined."

However, Cari did not feel so inclined. She spent the next hour and a half alternately swimming, watching the water polo matches – in which Aravis proved an enthusiastic participant – and played catch with Lady Tormyn, whose gentle invitation she found herself unable to refuse.

_Apparently she isn't upset at me, either, for stepping all over her son's feet,_ Cari mused as she and the older woman stepped a few yards farther toward the castle so as not to run the risk of hitting any of the other women with the ball.

Lady Tormyn confirmed Cari's hesitant optimism. "I noticed yesterday that you have a good arm and aim, Princess Carisa," she said as she gently tossed the cloth ball to the girl.

"Thank you, Lady Tormyn," replied Cari as she tossed the ball back in a near-perfect arc into the older woman's waiting hands. "I am not so skilled as Queen Susan and King Edmund, however. I have never seen so many straight perfect rounds bowled at a match in my life."

The older woman cocked her head as she tossed the ball slightly to Cari's left. The girl quickly shifted her position to catch it.

"So you have played the game before, then?" Lady Tormyn asked.

"Yes, I have," answered Cari. "Well – that is, in Calormen, not here. We called it 'Gridstones,' however."

The woman nodded in understanding. "And you lived by the sea, did you not?"

Cari nodded. "Yes. We did."

"Do you enjoy being so close to it again, then," asked Lady Tormyn, "or do you prefer the woodlands around Anvard?"

_At least she's not asking me to compare Calormene weather, or dances, or anything else with their northern counterparts._ "I did become accustomed to hearing the ocean waves during my time in Calormen," she admitted, stumbling ever so slightly over the last word, "so I enjoy hearing them again here, and I love seeing the water."

"There are plenty of places in Cair Paravel to see it from, as well," added Lady Tormyn.

Cari nodded. "My room – I mean, Aravis's and my room – overlooks it. Well, perhaps not this particular stretch, but much of the rest." She paused for a moment, thinking. "I myself have never lived on a lake. Is Lake Lynmere very large?"

_Is it large? Cari, what kind of stupid question is that?_

Lady Tormyn, however, did not seem to think so. "Not nearly as big as the sea, of course, but it is the largest lake in Narnia. The water is a much darker blue than the ocean's, and the area around it more heavily wooded, much like it is around Anvard." She nodded toward Cari as she tossed the ball. "And, thanks to my husband's great-great-grandfather, our room overlooks the lake much as yours overlooks the sea. It provides an exceptional view, especially on sunny days, when the sun illuminates the waves and makes their peaks sparkle." Her eyes took on a slightly reminiscent gleam. "I do love living near the water. I grew up in the midst of the woodlands of your own country, actually." She inclined her head again as Cari returned the ball to her.

"You're an Archenlander?" Cari nearly dropped the ball, even as she closed her hands around it.

Lady Tormyn tilted her head thoughtfully. "In a manner of speaking. My family and my husband's are originally from Narnia, but when the White Witch took over – " here she grimaced ever so slightly as she paused to choose her next words – "the humans that remained after the battle were forced to flee. Most ended up in Archenland. My ancestors were some of them, and so were my husband's. Fortunately, his family's home survived the Hundred-Year Winter, and it only needed a bit of repairing once we were able to return to it nine years ago, after the Witch's defeat."

_Hmm. I knew about the Narnian "transplants," as Father calls them, whose ancestors fled Narnia so long ago, but I never thought too much about how hard they must have had to work just to have homes again. At least I had a castle and my own rooms all ready for me when I got here._

"I suppose it must have been strange to move to a country you could not remember," she finally offered politely.

This produced a genuine smile from Lady Tormyn. "As I'm sure it was for you, Princess Carisa. In any case, Archenland is really quite similar to Narnia in its climate and landscape – save for the ocean, of course. In addition, Lake Lynmere is surrounded by woodlands very much like those in which I grew up in Archenland, so I did not feel too badly displaced when I moved here. Also, I learned to love the variety of neighbors we now enjoy, especially the birds. They have the most wonderful eyes for the construction, repair, and design of our buildings. And the centaurs are excellent hunters, not to mention cooks. It's no wonder King Peter always asks them to prepare the meat for the bigger Narnian feasts."

Cari's eyes widened. "Wait a minute. Does that mean that the food at last night's feast was prepared by centaurs?"

Lady Tormyn nodded. "Oh, yes. Nobody can roast meat better than a centaur." She nodded to a spot behind and to the right of where Cari was standing. "Isn't that right, Epona?"

Cari, turning to see who the older woman was addressing, found herself facing the female centaur who had won the previous day's archery competition. Long, dark curls cascaded down the back of a twinkling-eyed, pug-nosed young woman whose body melded perfectly with that of a dappled gray horse. She grinned cheekily at Lady Tormyn.

"I can't fault you for thinking it, Tormyn," she replied, then added, "As long as you don't say so about my husband, that is." She winked at the older woman, and they both burst out laughing.

As she wiped one of her eyes, Lady Tormyn turned to Cari. "Princess Carisa, have you met – " she began, at the same time the centaur dropped the four-legged curtsey that never ceased to fascinate Cari, even though she had met plenty of centaurs the previous day.

"Princess Carisa," Epona offered as she rose. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

Cari nodded gracefully, to her own astonishment. "The pleasure is mine, Lady Epona," she replied.

The centaur laughed again, an odd combination of singing and neighing to Cari's ears. "You are too kind, Princess Carisa. I have no special rank; that belongs to my friend here." She nodded in Lady Tormyn's direction.

"Oh. I – my apologies, L – Epona, then?" _Back to my stuttering ways, then, I suppose._

The centaur merely grinned again. "Of course."

Cari paused for an awkward moment to marshal her thoughts. "You are an excellent archer, by the way. I watched you shoot yesterday."

Epona waved her hand. "Ah, well, sometimes I have the luck and sometimes I don't. Queen Susan trounced me last year; in fact, I finished around tenth."

"Don't let her fool you, Princess," Lady Tormyn put in. "She has greater skill with a bow and arrow than perhaps any centaur of Lake Lynmere – and that is saying a great deal. Especially since she got married last autumn and can't spend so much time practicing her archery, now that she has to keep her husband from cooking and setting fires." Her mouth twisted merrily as Epona let out another heartfelt laugh.

"I won't deny I feel that way at times," she finally said. "However, seeing as how it was through that one fire he set that we met, I suppose I shouldn't complain." She turned to Cari, whose brow had furrowed inquiringly. "We were having an outdoor feast with Lady Tormyn, her family, and everybody else – everybody, that is, within the circle of the Five Hills. They surround Lake Lynmere," she added, seeing Cari's confusion. "Anyway, Faris and his brother Cliffmoor were helping roast the meat, and Faris got too close to the fire, so that his apron touched the flames and began burning. He took it off as fast as he could and ran across the shelter to throw it into one of the boiling pots over the cooking fires. He chose my pot, which was full of the stew my mother and some friends and I had been working on all day. Not to mention that the apron missed my face by about an inch as it entered the pot." She shook her head reminiscently, beaming. "You should have seen how red his face got. And he wouldn't stop apologizing until the feast was over and we all left."

_Hmm. I would very much like to meet this Faris. I think we'd get along splendidly._

All she said aloud, however, was, "But you didn't get burned, did you?"

Epona shook her head merrily. "No. He certainly acted as though I had, however. He and his family passed through our lands about a month later on a hunt, and he began apologizing to me all over again. I kept on telling him he needn't worry about it, but he seemed so determined to make it up to me that I told him I'd forgive him if he would, first of all, gather my arrows at my archery practice for three days and, second, never mention the incident again. I thought he knew I was joking about the first part, but apparently he didn't." Her eyes twinkled as Cari's widened. "I really enjoyed not having to chase down all of my arrows for three days, though." Her smile softened as she continued, "Of course, after three afternoons with him, I discovered that we had a great deal in common besides disliking dangerous fires. A year later, we got married. But I still don't let him cook. I do the cooking, he hunts while I'm off picking herbs and berries, and we're both happy as larks."

"You must have had a hard time talking him into coming here, then," replied Lady Tormyn, grinning.

The centaur mirrored her action. "Well, I did tell him he could find other things to do than roast the meat – and in any case, I was going to come for the archery contest whether or not he bothered to show up." At this, the two burst out laughing again.

Let _him cook? She can't "let" him do anything, can she? She's his wife! _He _has to let _her _do things…doesn't he? And how on earth could she expect to go anywhere by herself without his permission? If any Calormene woman had said things like that to her husband, she'd be pig-roast. _She shivered involuntarily.

_But this isn't Calormen, Cari. You know things are different here. Servants get paid and educated, and they take days off. Even common girls learn to wield weapons. And you already know of young ladies at court and in the village who seem to genuinely like the men they are betrothed to. Is it so unimaginable, then, that when they get married, they relate to each other differently from how Calormene men and women do – except maybe for Neresh and his wife?_

_I don't care. It's just strange._

The catching game quickly turned into a three-way match, and Cari and Lady Tormyn had to back farther apart from Epona so as to be able to handle her soaring tosses. The centaur and the noblewoman spent much of the time talking about their husbands' peculiarities that sounded scandalous to Cari, who said very little.

Eventually, everybody headed back indoors to clean up for tea. Queen Lucy led the way to the castle alongside Aravis, the two girls chattering gaily about the water polo matches, in which Aravis had apparently scored a lot of points.

Cari sighed. _Queen Lucy may not be angry at me, but I'm sure she likes Aravis better. She hasn't spoken to me once since we got to the water._

_Oh, for heaven's sake, Cari. You could have played water polo with them, but you said no._

_Yes, because I almost certainly would have wounded somebody had I played – maybe even more than one somebody._

"Cari, there you are." Queen Susan's steady voice at her elbow halted Cari's train of thought. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Oh – yes, Queen Susan," the startled girl replied.

"She's got a right good aim, Queen Susan," put in Epona, who had been easily keeping pace with Cari and Lady Tormyn. "A pity for you she's an Archenlander, or you could recruit her. She'd be a dead shot with a knife in a pinch."

Before Cari could protest, Queen Susan smiled. "I did see how well Cari played at Net-Bowls yesterday. I hope she and her family will return for next year's Midsummer festival. I anticipate she and whomever she teams with will compete for the title."

Cari reddened. "I'm not sure I'll do quite that well, Queen Susan. You and King Edmund make an excellent team."

"Nevertheless," replied the older girl, "I look forward to it. If Lucy doesn't rope you into it, I'm sure Peter will. He's nearly as good a shot as Edmund is."

_I beg to differ. King Peter couldn't possibly want to team in a throwing game with somebody half as clumsy as I am._

Supper was served on the northern terrace, a smaller and less splendid affair than its southern counterpart. It proved a perfect size for the evening's gathering, as all of the previous night's guests from the regional villages had left, as had a few of the guests from farther away. Afterward, everyone headed indoors, most to the castle's enormous grand ballroom for dancing. Fortunately, Lady Tormyn, sensing Cari's discomfort, led her over to a table along the edge of the room, a table topped with a black-and-white-checkered marble slab sporting four rows of intricately carved figurines. Cari had to stare at it for a few moments before she spotted the resemblance to Hashim's ancient wooden board with its oddly rounded markers.

"Do you know chess, Princess Carisa?" the noblewoman inquired.

_Ha! I knew that's what it was. I'm not quite so stupid as I act sometimes._

"Yes, Lady Tormyn," she answered the older woman.

The latter flashed her an enthusiastic smile. "Would you like to play a match?"

Despite her misgivings about her skill level – Hashim had shown her the basic points of the game, but she had played it with Ruhandi only a few times – Cari agreed, and Lady Tormyn offered her the first turn.

_As though it will matter in the end. I'm pig-roast._

However, they proved far more evenly matched than Cari had feared; she only lost the game because she had miscalculated the number of moves it would take Lady Tormyn's last knight to reach her king.

After the third match, which Cari lost rather badly, the dancing began to die down, and King Lune excused himself, which his children and Aravis all knew was the signal for them to retire. Corin pouted slightly, but trudged dutifully after his siblings in the end.

_Blast it. I wish I'd had a chance to read a bit more of that book about the Great Western War before bed. Maybe tomorrow._

Cari did indeed find time to read her book the following day, for the four monarchs spent most of the day in the throne room dealing with what King Lune called "business matters."

"Meetings, then, I suppose," Aravis said in a bored voice as the two girls headed upstairs to their rooms.

"What kinds of meetings?" Cari queried.

"Oh, they're probably meeting with all of their T – I mean, territorial representatives who are here," answered the younger girl. "My father had to go to Tashbaan periodically to report to the Tisroc – may – I mean, to report on the state of his province and finances." She reddened slightly as she corrected herself; she had had more trouble dropping the phrase "may he live forever" from her speech than had Cari and Cor.

"Oh, you mean to discuss taxes?" Cari had taken quickly to Master Dorian's lessons on the functions of government in general and Archenland's government in particular, but she suspected she still knew far less than did Aravis, especially regarding Calormene administrative practices.

"Among other things," replied the younger girl. "My father always had to report the names of those he appointed to be his judges and counselors and other administrators for the Tisroc's approval. He also had to show the Tisroc's ministers the records of his population and finances, and tell him about any significant troubles in the province, such as disease outbreaks, political unrest, or thefts from the treasury." She opened her wardrobe and, after a moment, selected a crimson ensemble she often used in the sword ring.

"Thank you, Treya," she said, as the latter approached her and unlaced the dress she had worn to breakfast. She turned to the older girl. "Would you like to spar with us in the sword ring, Cari?"

Cari's brow wrinkled. "But King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy are all preoccupied."

Aravis shrugged. "Yes, but they have still allowed us to use the sword ring, as well as the archery range and all the other practice arenas, since their keepers are always on duty. Besides, there's nearly always somebody there practicing."

"Oh," Cari replied after a moment. "I didn't know. In any case, though, I would prefer to stay here and read farther into my book. Thank you, however."

"Well, enjoy it, then," answered the other girl as Treya and Mariel buttoned her into her red outfit.

Cari walked around her bed and pulled the book in question out of the drawer in the night table. "And you as well." After a moment, she added, "And please don't let anybody get hurt, Aravis."

The younger girl grinned. "We're using wooden swords, Cari. Nobody is going to get severely wounded. Besides, it would take more than a few splinters to stop me from laughing at Corin once I beat him."

Cari merely rolled her eyes and headed over to one of the window seats, which at that hour was flooded with sunlight. She shifted a couple of the pillows there before curling up and opening her book. _I finished the chapter about the muster in the Telmarine capital, didn't I? Yes, I did. So, on to the next one. Lovely._

By tea-time she had gotten through two more chapters, and young King Arbior, along with his army, had reached the eastern banks of the Winding Arrow. Toward the end of the meal, Lady Tormyn, who was seated across the table from Cari, invited her to go walking on a shell hunt along the beach. Disguising her reluctance, the girl agreed, and they found themselves accompanied by Aravis and a fair number of the guests.

"Have you missed the shells along with the ocean, Princess Carisa?" the noblewoman inquired as Cari bent down to examine her fifth shell of the afternoon.

Cari straightened and blushed. "Yes, I suppose I have. I don't mean to hold you up, though, Lady Tormyn."

"Nonsense," the older woman replied, shaking her head. "I enjoy a more leisurely pace than many others." She nodded toward a spot several dozen yards ahead of them, where most of the group was walking, then glanced back at Cari. "Do you enjoy collecting shells, then?"

"I – I never really have collected any, actually," answered Cari. "I did not have much time to do so in Calormen, and I would not presume to gather any shells from here without permission from the kings and queens."

Lady Tormyn smiled at this. "They have never begrudged a shell to me or, I believe, to any of their fellow Narnians," she said gently. "I myself have gathered several to use in my tapestries at home."

Cari's face brightened. "You weave tapestries?"

The older woman nodded. "I do," she answered, "as do many Narnian women. Archenland proved an excellent place to learn the art."

Cari frowned after a moment. "Forgive me for asking, but how does one weave a shell into a tapestry? I have never seen such a creation, and I would assume the shells would slip out if anyone tried to sew them in, unless she practically wrapped them in thread."

"And so they do," answered Lady Tormyn, "if one does not pierce them with a large, strong needle. They can be sewn in with a single stitch then, although all the women I know use doubles." She tilted her head, as if she had just thought of something. "They say Queen Swanwhite was the first to combine Narnian brocade weaving with shell-piercing to create scarves and tapestries studded with shells. I presume you have seen some of them decorating Cair Paravel?"

Cari nodded; she had indeed noticed the shells sewn tightly onto the hangings in many of the castle's rooms. "Yes, I have." After a moment, she added, "However, nobody ever told me that about Queen Swanwhite."

They spent the next three-quarters of an hour discussing some of the early Narnian queen's many achievements, such as commissioning the first official history of Narnia and helping to draft the peace treaty that ended Archenland's First Provincial War with Nakorus, an agreement that served as a model for treaties written during the next few centuries. As it turned out, the queen had also had a particular fondness for Lake Lynmere, and had journeyed there often. She had also drawn heavily from the especially well-kept records of Lord Kenloch's ancestors for the history she had commissioned.

After dinner, Cari reluctantly headed outdoors, as Queen Lucy had begged her to join her team, which also consisted of Aravis and Queen Susan, in a game of lawn-bowls with the two Narnian kings and some of the other guests. Both queens' skills were on par with their abilities at Net-Bowls, and Aravis proved an adequate shot. Cari's nerves factored into several of her tosses, but she did manage to hit more than the two balls she had gloomily predicted to Queen Lucy upon first being invited. Indeed, in the game's fourth round, she rolled a shot that hit a ball from a third of the way across the wide lawn – a distance even Queen Susan had had problems with a few times.

"It was a lucky shot, that's all," she murmured, her face beet-red, as her teammates congratulated her.

"Oh, fiddlesticks, Cari!" exclaimed Queen Lucy. "You're a right lot better than you give yourself credit for sometimes. Anyway, lucky or not, you've put us ahead of Ed's team."

Aravis grinned. "Well, Cor isn't bowling half as well as she is. That helps."

"Excuse me?" came an indignant voice a few feet away, and all four girls turned to see Cor, who with his teammates – King Edmund, King Peter, and Corin – had just filed onto the sideline where the girls were standing.

Aravis merely grinned at him. "All right, maybe two-thirds. Is that better?"

Cor rolled his eyes. "We'll still have the better of you, Aravis, just watch."

His prediction proved correct, but not because his team had greater skills. King Peter, the last man up for the foursome in the last round, bowled a poorer set than he had in the previous round and exited the playing area shaking his head.

_At least he didn't grab his own hair over it, as King Edmund did after that one horrible shot of his,_ mused Cari as she followed her teammates through the ropes for their final round. _He seems to handle competitive circumstances more calmly than his brother._

As she watched the two queens and Aravis toss their sets, she quickly calculated her team's rising scores, based on the numbers Queen Susan had related to her a few minutes earlier, and compared them to her brothers' team's final numbers. _Oh, blast it. This is going to be closer than I thought, _she thought as the older queen made her final throw.

"Go, Cari!" Queen Lucy yelled from her perch near the sidelines. Crimson-faced, Cari picked up her first ball and headed out to make her first throw.

_Let me see. How many bad throws can I afford?_

As she bowled her way through the round, Cari mentally calculated her scores. _This is going to be _very _close. If my last throw is a decent one, we beat them._

She gritted her teeth behind resolutely closed lips. _Right. A horrid throw it is._

_Come on, Cari. I thought we'd been through this._

_That's right. We have, and I'm not going to beat King Peter if I can help it, not even as part of a team. I'm sorry, Queen Susan and Queen Lucy – and Aravis._

As she picked up the last ball, she paused for several moments.

_Oh, brother. I wonder if I'll actually be able to produce a bad throw, now that I've decided on it. It would be just my luck if I threw a good one by mistake._

However, the toss turned out to be the most pathetic one she'd made so far by a mile, which sealed the victory for King Peter's team. Queen Susan graciously congratulated every member of the winning foursome, even as Queen Lucy sighed dramatically.

"Next time, Ed," she informed her grinning brother.

He threw a long arm around her shoulders. "We'll see about that, Lu." He then turned to Aravis and Cari. "Excellent match, Princess Carisa – Lady Aravis. Oh, sorry – Aravis." He grinned apologetically at the younger girl as he corrected himself, even as she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Thank you, King Edmund," she returned loftily, but could not suppress a grin of her own.

Cor, approaching from behind them, barely missed bumping into Aravis. "Still a lousy bowler, am I?" he asked, grinning.

Aravis rolled her eyes at him. "I didn't _say _you were a lousy bowler, Cor, just that you weren't bowling as well as Cari in this particular game. And her tosses did score a lot higher than yours overall. In any case, I suppose we've both been proven right, since your team won the game."

Cor rolled his eyes right back at her, then stilled them as he looked at a spot slightly behind and to the right of Cari. She and Aravis both turned to face the High King.

"Well played, Lady Aravis – Princess Carisa," he congratulated them, nodding his head politely.

"She likes being called just 'Aravis,' dolt, remember?" King Edmund playfully slapped his brother's arm.

The older king narrowed his eyes at his brother playfully before turning to Aravis. "I assume my knucklehead of a brother is telling the truth?"

Aravis smiled, although Cari caught the slightest shade of red coloring her cheeks. "Yes, King Peter. I am not accustomed to my – superiors using my title."

"'Aravis' it is, then." The king smiled. "In any case – excellent round, both of you." He nodded at each of them in turn, and Cari wondered if she was only imagining the question in his eyes as he looked at her.

"Thank you, King Peter," she and Aravis answered in unwitting unison. Cari felt her face flush. _Don't even think of rubbing your stupid ear, Cari. It'll only make you look a good deal guiltier than you surely look already – especially if he did somehow guess that you threw the game._

_Oh, blast it. I threw a game. That's wrong – everybody knows it!_

_Well, it was that or risk beating him. I do _not _need him any more negatively inclined toward me, not after what happened last night. Besides, it just feels wrong to be beating the ruler of anywhere._

_That was in Calormen, Cari. You're not there any more. Have you seen any of these Narnian rulers become angry or violent with anybody who's beaten them at any competition?_

_No. But the only competition I've ever seen King Peter lose was the lawn-bowls game yesterday, and then he was playing against Father, who is his equal. And whatever else I may be, I am not the equal of the High King of Narnia._

However, the High King of Narnia offered no opinion on that subject, and, after putting away the balls, everybody headed indoors to the grand ballroom. Fortunately for Cari, she only had to stumble through one dance each with her father and brothers before Lady Tormyn asked if she would like to play chess again. Over their next two matches, both of which Cari lost, they discussed more about history, and at one point Cari went to her room to retrieve the book she had been reading for the perusal of the curious noblewoman, who, it turned out, knew even less about the Battle of the Flood than Cari did. However, she did approve of the historian who had written the book.

Back in the room she shared with Aravis, Cari was letting down her hair for the night when it hit her. _Oh, blast it, blast it, _blast _it! I left my book downstairs!_ She hurriedly twisted it back up into what she judged a passable semblance of order, told the confused Mara and Maria that she would be right back, and hurriedly snuck back downstairs. _At least I hadn't gotten out of my gown yet. Then I would have had to ask Mara to lace me back up. _

_Or she may have offered to get the book for you, genius. You might turn around now and ask her if she would._

_Well, she's not the idiot who left it downstairs in the first place. Therefore, she shouldn't have to correct my mistake. Besides, with any luck, only the servants will be left in the ballroom, and I won't have to see any of the monarchs._

This assessment proved very nearly correct, for the only three people inside the ballroom when Cari tiptoed up to the double doors and peeked through them, besides the servants who were snuffing out the candles and dusting the windowsills, were Lord Kenloch's nephew Lord Kelton and niece Kepta, as well as the High King, the last of whom was engaged in conversation with a faun who seemed to be in charge of the other servants. Cari quickly retreated from the doors and flattened herself against the wall, determined to wait until he had exited the room. _If I'm careful – and lucky – I can hide while he leaves and then nip in there to get my book. Blast it, though! How do I always manage to get myself into these scrapes? I have got to be one of the most stupid idiots the world has ever seen – oh!_

For the door opposite her had just opened, and, before she had the chance to scurry down the hall and hide, out stepped the High King into the soft, combined light of the hallway torches and the remaining candlelight from the ballroom flickering out into the hall.

"Princess Carisa!" he greeted the stunned Cari, whose face immediately turned several different shades of red as she curtsied.

"King Peter," she murmured with as much deference as she could muster.

"You are well, I hope?" asked the king, the concern evident in his voice – and his eyes, once Cari could force herself to look into them. "Are you looking for your father, perhaps, or in need of anything I can get for you?"

Cari shook her head. "No, thank you, Yo – King Peter. I merely forgot my book – I mean, the book Queen Susan lent me – in the ballroom. I was showing it to Lady Tormyn," she added hastily, so as to lessen the impression that she was prone to losing items at random without good reason.

"Ah." The king nodded in understanding. "We may as well see, then, if it is still there." He held the door open for Cari as they both entered the ballroom.

The faun to whom King Peter had been speaking just moments before approached them, bowing to both king and princess. "Your Majesty – Princess Carisa. What may I do for you?"

King Peter waved his hand. "Nothing, at the moment, Claudius. We have just come to retrieve the book my sister lent Princess Carisa." To Cari's relief, he mentioned nothing about her having left it in the room by mistake.

The faun nodded. "I see. Was it sitting on one of the chess tables?"

The king looked questioningly at Cari, who nodded. "Yes, sir – Claudius," she amended hastily, reddening even further.

The faun, however, took no notice. "I have it right over on one of the side tables. One moment, please." He bowed, then gracefully trotted over to a table at the far end of the room. He returned with the book in his hand. "Is this the right book, Princess?"

"Yes, Claudius. Thank you very much," Cari replied, inclining her head gratefully.

"My pleasure, Princess. Would you be needing anything else?" the faun inquired politely.

"No, thank you, Claudius. You have been a great help," the princess answered.

"Thank you, Claudius," King Peter added, nodding to the faun, who returned his gesture and headed back across the room.

"You have a fondness for chess, then, Princess?" the king inquired.

"A bit, I suppose, King Peter," Cari replied. "I haven't played it very much, however. I have spent more time since I arrived here in learning the northern games."

The king nodded. "I hear from your brother that some of them have Calormene equivalents. I hope that made it easier for you."

"Oh, yes." Cari nodded. "I learned Jump-Crystals in Calormen under the name of 'Stones,' and Net-Bowls under the name of 'Gridstones.' They were two of my brother's and my favorite games as children."

"Indeed," replied King Peter. "I can tell; you are quite good at both of them, and I saw this evening that you are an excellent lawn-bowls player as well."

Cari reddened. "Thank you, King Peter."

"In fact," the king continued, "I should not be surprised to see you win at any of those games at next year's Midsummer festival – if you are able to attend, of course." He lowered both his voice and his head then, so that his head, though several feet away from Cari's, was nearly at her eye level. "And, if you should win, please do not fear that you will get any grief from me – or from my brother, no matter how much he boasts." The good-humored gleam in his eyes combined with a slightly concerned gentleness that made Cari bite her tongue behind her lips.

_Oh, blast and double blast it. He knows I let him win those games._

Cari hung her head for a moment before forcing it upward again to meet the king's steady blue gaze. "I understand, King Peter."

The king smiled. "Wonderful. Is there anything else you need, Princess?"

Cari shook her head. "No, thank you, King Peter."

He nodded. "May I have one of the servants escort you upstairs?"

Cari shook her head again. "No, thank you, King Peter. I know the way." She caught herself halfway into a curtsey, straightened, and nodded deferentially.

The king returned her gesture. "Good night, then, Princess Carisa."

"Good night, King Peter."

Cari forced herself to keep to a respectable pace as she exited the ballroom through the open right-hand door. Once she was out of the sight of anybody left in the room, she practically sprinted back to her apartments and a worried-looking Mara.

"I'm sorry, Mara," she whispered, seeing Aravis lying down in her bed already. "I forgot my book – I mean, the book Queen Susan lent me."

Mara tilted her head. "Of course, Princess Cari, but should you forget anything again, Maria or I would be glad to retrieve it for you." Her expression took on a hint of sternness. "I expect the room was either empty or full of multiple people of both genders, then, according to the proprieties Mistress Morenna taught you?"

Cari nodded again. "Yes, Mara." _Blast it! I should have thought of that first – although I did think of it eventually, once I saw Lady Kepta there. Still, of course I wouldn't have gone into the room with only the High King in it. I'm smarter than that, for my own sake as well as Mistress Morenna's._ She shivered slightly as Mara finished unlacing her gown. _Right. No more forgetting books in random rooms around the castle, then._


	25. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Most of Cair Paravel's guests left immediately after breakfast the following morning. Cari and her family, who were staying for Queen Lucy's birthday party the next day, were not among them. To remove themselves from the general hubbub in the entrance hall, the four siblings headed to the terrace where they had played Jump-Crystals with the kings and queens on the day they had arrived.

Cari, who had broken a shoelace at breakfast, had to hurry to her room to change her shoes, and was therefore the last of the siblings to reach the terrace. On her way, she made a wrong turn in one of the halls. While trying to decide which way she should go next, she noticed two of the younger ladies from Lake Lynmere leaving one of the guest rooms just ahead of her. _I may as well follow them,_ she decided, and made off down the hall in their direction. As she got closer to them, her ears caught snatches of their conversation.

"King Edmund gets more handsome by the year," sighed the shorter of the two, whose long golden hair hung loosely down her back. "It's a wonder he's not married yet – or at least betrothed."

"Well, he did just attain marriageable age a few weeks ago," her dark-haired companion pointed out. "And anyway, you know perfectly well it's a good thing he isn't attached."

This statement elicited a burst of laughter from her friend. "Ha! Don't count your chickens before they've hatched, Liata. For all we know, he's just extremely choosy about whom he marries. I heard he's received offers from the Nakorusians and the Kulonites both. The Tisroc probably would have offered one of his daughters, too, if he hadn't been so busy trying to destroy Archenland and kidnap Queen Susan. If he won't accept princesses like that, who could possibly be good enough for him?"

Cari could see Liata's shrug from her position a few yards behind the girl. "You never know. Maybe he's not partial to foreign princesses."

Her companion stopped and turned to look her in the face. "But he's got to marry one sooner or later, hasn't he? Perhaps he just doesn't like the ones who have been offered to him."

Cari could hear Liata's eyeroll in the tone of her voice. "Honestly, Jenella. Don't you remember anything Master Cyrus taught us? According to Narnian law, King Edmund can marry whomever he likes, even a commoner. Don't you remember King Frank the Sixth? He married one of the castle maids, for heaven's sake! Not that it wouldn't be a delightful scandal if King Edmund did the same, mind you." She giggled.

Her companion let out a long laugh. "And so it would! King Peter probably wouldn't have it, though. Couldn't he make King Edmund back off of marrying a girl he didn't approve of, seeing as how he's the High King and all?"

Liata shrugged. "I'm not sure. After all, Narnia's never had two kings at a time." She laughed again. "Perhaps they'd duel to decide the matter."

After the girls' giggling had subsided, Jenella spoke up again. "King Peter would probably win, though. Did you _see _him fight his brother at the Midsummer games? Now whomever _he _gets is the luckiest girl in Narnia, or anywhere else for that matter."

Liata emitted a low giggle. "You don't have to tell me that! If you ask me, he's always been the handsomer of the two – though not by much, lately."

Jenella sighed dramatically. "You've always gone for the golden-headed ones, Liata. Personally, _I _prefer tall, dark, and handsome, although you wouldn't catch me refusing attention from either of them." She giggled again. So did Liata, who lowered her voice when she spoke next such that Cari only heard her because the gap between herself and the two girls had closed substantially.

"Did you hear who the High King _supposedly_ – " Liata gave a slight, pausing emphasis to the last word – "gave his attentions to last night?"

"Who?" Jenella was clearly giving her companion her full attention.

"Well," began Liata, pausing for dramatic effect, "I heard from one of my maidservants, who heard it from one of the castle servants here, that he was in the ballroom last night, and who should go in to meet him but that new princess from Archenland – you know, the older one, with the lighter hair."

Cari nearly froze in her tracks, but the girls were far too engrossed in their conversation to notice her.

"What – you mean Princess Clumsy?" Jenella's high-pitched giggles echoed off the hallway walls, causing Cari to wince. "The one who tripped all over herself dancing the other night? What on earth does he see in her, I wonder?" After a few more giggles, she lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Wait – did your servant say they were in the ballroom _alone_?" She stopped walking and leaned in eagerly toward her companion.

"Oh, I don't know about that," Liata replied. "I just told you everything my servant said."

"Did she say how long they were in the room together?" Jenella fairly whispered, clearly determined to extract every juicy morsel she could from her friend.

"Only for a few minutes, is what she told me," Liata replied, her voice now almost as low as her friend's.

"Hmm." Jenella ruminated for a few moments. "A few minutes could mean just two, or even ten. You should ask her."

"Maybe I should," replied the other girl. "It still doesn't explain what he sees in her, though. Maybe he likes the novelty. They've only just met, after all."

"Or maybe Calormene girls are looser than Narnian ones," whispered Jenella, and both girls burst into storms of laughter once more.

The two girls turned another corner then, but Cari stood stock-still, her face redder than Aravis's favorite fencing outfit. Only when she heard a third voice break into the conversation could she force her feet close to the turn, where she stuck her head just far enough around the wall to see how close the girls were. As it turned out, they had already gone halfway down the next hall in the company of a red-headed girl, who looked vaguely familiar from behind and whom Cari assumed was the source of the third voice. A few seconds later she opened her mouth, removing the princess's doubts.

"What are you two on about?" she asked the other two girls. _Oh, it's Lady Kepta. I thought she looked familiar._

"Oh, nothing much," answered Jenella airily. "We were merely discussing the High King's apparent interest in the new Archenlander princess who just arrived from Calormen."

"The older one," Liata put in quickly.

"Interest?" Lady Kepta sounded genuinely confused. "He only danced with her once at the festival."

"Indeed," Jenella giggled, "but Liata's servant says they were alone together in the ballroom for some minutes last night."

"_Might_ have been alone together, Jenella," Liata put in hastily. Cari could almost hear her blushing.

"Well, I am sorry to inform you they weren't alone at any point," answered Lady Kepta briskly. "I was in the room with both of them, as well as my brother Kelton and several servants. She had left a book there and come back for it, and King Peter assisted her in retrieving it. She was in the room for less than five minutes."

There was a long, awkward pause.

"Oh," Liata and Jenella murmured in unison.

"Indeed," remarked Lady Kepta; her voice had taken on a subtly steely undertone. "I would certainly hope that her reputation has not been questioned over this incident, seeing as there was no reasonable cause."

The two younger girls exchanged a glance that even Cari, at her distance from them, could perceive as guilty.

"Not any more," Liata fairly whispered.

How Lady Kepta answered her Cari never knew, for she suddenly realized three things: where she was, that she needed to go in the opposite direction to get to the terrace, and that she could not stomach one more second of the other girls' discussion. She turned abruptly on her heels and fled through the halls, walking as fast as she could.

_I'm not a loose girl. I'm not! I kept all of the propriety rules Mistress Morenna taught me. I didn't go anywhere alone with a man, and I never would! Well, all right – not of my own free will._

_Yes, let's not forget you almost became known as a loose woman in Calormen – three times._

_But I wasn't trying to be loose! I tried with everything I had in me _not _to be loose – in all three instances. I didn't try to make those men want me. And heavens only know I'm not trying to make the High King, of all people – let alone anybody else – want me. I'm not being improper, and I don't want to be. Why didn't that servant _say _there were plenty of other people in the room – not to mention that one of the doors was open the whole time? Is my clumsiness really enough of a reason for people to want to lie about me – especially in the case of such a horrible, dangerous lie?_

So absorbed was Cari in her thoughts that she did not notice the young man rapidly walking toward her until he swerved to avoid her and failed, his shoulder glancing off of hers and very nearly jarring the newly-formed drops of moisture from her eyes.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" they both exclaimed. Cari looked up and recognized Lord Kennon from the Midsummer dance. Both immediately reddened.

"Princess Carisa," Lord Kennon finally managed as he bowed. "Are you all right?"

Cari nodded. "I am fine, Lord Kennon. Is your shoulder all right?"

The young man returned her gesture. "Oh, yes." He paused for a few moments, his face reddening even more. Finally he added, "Princess Carisa, I – um – I did not mean to make you uncomfortable with my conversation at the Midsummer dance. I apologize if I did."

_Oh, how I wish I could tell you that you did make me very uncomfortable. However, I suppose discomfort is a very small offense compared to force of – no, I'm not going to think about it any more._

Cari forced a half-smile onto her face. "Apology accepted, Lord Kennon. I hope your trip home proves safe and swift."

The redness in the young man's face lifted a bit. "And I wish the same for you and your family on your trip home, Princess Carisa." He bowed again, and Cari inclined her head to him. After an awkward pause, he turned and swept past her, this time taking care to avoid her by a wide margin.

_Oh, my face must look like a beet by now,_ Cari moaned inwardly as she made her way onto the terrace. She was extremely tempted to hide in her room and avoid her siblings altogether. _But I did promise to play with them, and anyway, Mara said she, Treya, Mariel, and Maria were going to tidy up our rooms this morning._

"What's eating your face, Cari?" Corin asked when she finally appeared on the terrace.

Cari took a deep breath to avoid saying, "Your stupidity, Corin," and let it out before replying, "Nothing, Corin." However, she could not keep the harried edge out of her voice entirely. Aravis and Cor both threw her odd looks before the siblings began their game.

After several matches, Aravis followed Cor and Corin to the sword ring for a few rounds of sparring. Unable to think of anything better to do other than read her book, which she had eliminated as an option until after lunchtime, Cari followed them and watched the matches halfheartedly until one of the servants came to summon them inside for the meal.

At lunch, Cari kept her eyes and ears especially alert, frequently glancing around the tables to see if she could catch anybody engaged in a conversation that appeared to be about her. She could find none, although two or three times she saw Queen Lucy whisper something into Queen Susan's ear. One time, she even thought she saw Queen Lucy gaze at her for a few moments before looking elsewhere.

After the meal, Cari practically fled upstairs to her room and her book. As she had the previous day, she curled up on one of the room's window seats and opened the volume to continue the saga of King Arbior and the Battle of the Flood. However, she found herself unable to focus as well as she had the day before, as her thoughts insisted on wandering to the conversation she had overheard that morning.

_How on earth do a few minutes spent to retrieve a book from a room with a very decent number of people make me a loose girl? Why would anybody want to say that about me? I may be a clumsy, tripping idiot, and I did figure that people would be laughing at me behind my back for it, but since when did it make me loose, too? And I used all of my best manners with everybody I met – including those two girls – so I am sure I gave them no reason to hate me so much as to imagine such lies about me – right? Especially lies as dangerous as that!_

_Well, perhaps I did. I don't know everything about northern courtesies, so I may have said something wrong to somebody at some point during the festival – in fact, I'd be more surprised if I hadn't. But I'm almost positively sure I didn't say anything to those two girls other than to exchange polite words of greeting. _

_So maybe Liata's servant dislikes me, since apparently she was the one who began the rumor. But why? I don't even remember meeting her, and I know I've never intentionally been rude to a servant._

_Well, maybe she's like Tenzi and Lashmi back in Calormen. They were always the quickest to jump all over any rumor that one of the other wives was carrying a child, or that the father of some village girl was about to marry her off to some man or other. But nobody – not even Tenzi – would ever have spread gossip that a girl was loose. We all knew what would have happened had such a report ever reached the ear of any man in the village. _She shuddered._ I really, really, really hope the rumor got no further than the two of them – well, three of them. I have no idea how they punish loose girls here, but I don't want to find out. _She shuddered again, this time more violently.

"Princess Cari, are you feeling all right?" Maria's concerned but still cheerful voice broke her train of thought. She turned her head and produced a smile that she felt must have looked thoroughly unconvincing.

"Oh, yes, Maria, I'm fine," she answered.

The younger girl's head tilted oddly, but after a moment she bobbed in a brief curtsey and turned away. Cari almost called her back to ask her if she had heard anything about Liata and Jenella's rumor, but thought better of it. _She's fourteen years old. I won't involve a girl that young in this mess – and it is a mess._

_Well, this _is _the north, not Calormen, so the punishment for being loose – or for being rumored to be loose – may not be quite so bad here. And I am a princess here, after all, which may lessen any punishment further. Still, if Father hears of it…_ This time, she shuddered several times before getting control of herself.

_I'm sure that if he has heard, I'll know shortly. Nobody in his right mind would sit back and allow a rumor so shameful to his family to spread…would he?_

Shutting her book, Cari let out a deep sigh, then another. She dismounted from the windowsill and walked over to her wardrobe, fingering its contents absentmindedly for some time before moving on to her jewelry box. She had just finished picking up and putting down her last necklace for the second time when Aravis came to fetch her for tea-time.

If Cari had been nervous at lunch, she proved downright jumpy at the tea table. Tetra, the now-recovered table servant, had to ask her three times what type of tea she would like, and when Aravis, seated next to her, turned suddenly to address her, she dropped a forkful of cake, which landed with a clatter on her fine porcelain plate.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed to the whole table, blushing deeply as she did so. Unfortunately, her gaze landed on King Peter by accident, and her face quickly completed the transition from light red to scarlet before it was safe to politely drop her eyes.

_A lovely job you're doing of refuting that rumor, Cari, if anybody else has heard it._

_Oh, shut up._

Cari remained distracted and listless throughout the remainder of the day, so that Cor asked her twice if she was all right and looked thoroughly unconvinced both times she said she was. _Blast if that boy doesn't see a great deal more than I think he does at times._ She ate very little at supper, and wished she had eaten nothing at all when Queen Susan asked her if she would like to go for a walk along the shore. Her stomach in turmoil, she nevertheless agreed.

_If she's heard the rumor, I am beyond pig-roast._

However, Queen Susan mentioned nothing about the report as she and Cari, trailed discreetly by two of the queen's maidservants, cut across a corner of the castle's lawn and began their trek to the beach. Instead, she politely inquired about how Cari liked her rooms, and then about what she thought of the book. Cari tried to answer as courteously and completely as possible, even adding a few details about King Arbior's march to the Winding Arrow, but Queen Susan could clearly see her halfheartedness.

"Is there anything that has happened during your stay here to trouble you, Cari?" she asked gently as they stepped onto the warm, white sand of the shore. Both girls – as Cari had learned was the Narnian custom, even for kings and queens – took off their shoes.

"I do not mean to pry, of course," the queen added hastily. "Your own life and business are indeed your own. However, my siblings and I do our utmost to make every guest feel comfortable, happy, and safe while under the roof of Cair Paravel, and I would be very sorry if you were to feel unwelcome to those ends." As she looked over at Cari's already-reddened face, her eyes softened. "And I fear that you are. I hope my siblings and I have done nothing to displease you?" Her voice rose very slightly on the last sentence.

Cari quickly shook her head, and for once was able to make eye contact with the queen, if only for a brief moment. "Oh, no, Queen Susan. I – you have welcomed me most graciously – all of you. Please do not think you have – um – displeased me in any way." She quickly lowered her eyes as she finished the last sentence, then took a very deep breath before continuing. "If anything, I should be worried it was the other way around."

_Wonderful job, Cari. You can't control your nerves, and now you've made the senior queen of Narnia think she's a terrible hostess._

Queen Susan tilted her head toward Cari almost sharply. "The other way around?"

Cari nodded, then took another deep breath before facing the older girl again. "I am not nearly as knowledgeable as you and your siblings – or my father and brother Corin, for that matter – about northern customs regarding courtesy and protocol. My protocol mistress at Anvard has done an excellent job of teaching me, and I try to reflect this in my behavior, but I – I know I fail sometimes. However – " she cleared a tiny hitch out of her throat before continuing – "I believe I have learned all of the most basic principles, and I would _never _violate any of them, especially not while visiting Cair Paravel, no matter what might be said or heard about – about my knowledge and behavior. Please believe, Queen Susan, that I have much more respect than that for you and all of your siblings."

The queen, who had stopped walking to match Cari's unconscious cessation of leg movement, looked nothing but confused. _Oh, lovely. Now I'll have to explain myself, which means she'll hear about the rumor when she probably wouldn't have if I had kept my stupid mouth shut._

"Cari," Queen Susan said gently after a brief, awkward pause, "I can see from watching you that your protocol teacher has done an exceptional job, so you have no need to worry on that score. And please do not be so harsh on yourself as to expect to learn every aspect of court protocol in only six weeks. In fact, for having been here so short a time, you are comporting yourself splendidly well." She paused for a moment until Cari was forced to look up and make eye contact with her surprisingly earnest, gentle gaze. "I have heard nothing otherwise during the time you have been here, Cari, and I would be sorry to learn that anyone in my household had told you otherwise."

"Oh, no, Queen Susan." Cari shook her head emphatically. "It was not one of your household." _Oh, blast it, Cari, _why _did you have to say that? You've gone and let the fish clear out of the net!_

The queen's concerned look deepened into a frown. "But somebody has told you that you have reflected upon your teachers poorly? I am very sorry that any of my guests should have told you such a thing, and I can assure you that is not the case."

Cari, her face now a bright shade of scarlet, shook her head once again. "No, Queen Susan, nobody actually said any such thing to my face." She paused uncomfortably, unsure how to continue.

But Queen Susan, it appeared, did not need her to. "You have heard dishonest gossip spread about you, then, have you?"

Cari lowered her head, managing a very slight nod. She finally raised it when she heard the queen emit a sound that was somewhere between an extended "Mmm" and a noise of concern Bren had made when she had seen Cari's whip scars for the first time. Looking up, she saw that the queen's face was indeed covered with an expression of not just concern, but also – _is that sadness? Is she sad merely because somebody lied about me, or because it might reflect poorly on her and her family?_

"Well, it wasn't all false," she volunteered. "I know I am very clumsy, so I suppose it's not dishonest for anybody to say so. But I – " here the bit of redness that had left her face within the last minute crept back in – "I have never – I mean, I would never – I mean, I know it is considered a violation of courtesy and protocol and – and decency in – in Narnia, and in Archenland, and in other countries as well – to enter a room whose only other occupant is – is of a different gender. And I would never consider, let alone do, such a thing." Her voice faltered as she continued, managing to look the queen squarely in the eyes for a brief moment before dropping her own. "Please believe me when I say this, Queen Susan."

_Cari, are you really so determined to destroy yourself? If so, job well done. You've told Queen Susan of Narnia that you're being reported as a loose woman. You couldn't do anything more stupid than that if you tried._

Queen Susan's hand on her shoulder startled Cari out of her thoughts. When she finally managed to look the older girl in the eye, she saw only kindness and understanding instead of the disgust and anger she had anticipated.

"Of course I believe you, Cari," the queen told her gently, "and I am very sorry to hear that any of my guests was involved in spreading such slander about you. However – " she pursed her lips intently before continuing – "unfortunately, when you are a part of any court, and especially a person of high rank as you and I are, you will find that there will always be those who enjoy rumors and slander more than speaking the truth. I discovered this the hard way not long after becoming queen here. Indeed, I also possess enough curiosity to be tempted by scandalous-sounding stories, and I must remind myself as much as anybody else that such conduct causes far more pain than pleasure at the end of things." Her eyebrows rose, along with one corner of her mouth, and Cari thought for a moment that an outsider looking at the two of them would have been hard-pressed to tell which of them had actually had the rumor spread about her. "I am especially sorry for the pain this has caused you, Cari. You have shown character of the highest caliber during your entire stay here, and anyone who would say otherwise about you – and spread such a rumor to boot – cannot say nearly the same about hers. And much more so if all else she can focus on is the fact that you have made a few mistakes at dances. That does not mean that you are clumsy; it only means that you are a mortal creature, as are all the rest of us."

It took a few moments before an overcome Cari could force back the moisture from her eyes and muster so much as a nod in reply. "You – you have had rumors spread about you as well, then? Even though you are the queen?" _Oh, blast it. Where on earth did that come from?_

Queen Susan, however, did not seem to think Cari's question impertinent. "Oh, yes – many times. My siblings and I do all we can to promote honesty among our household and guests, as well as to discourage gossip and slander. However, it does happen from time to time, and when it does, I must remind myself that those who truly know me and wish the best for me pay more attention to my own words and actions than to rumors spread by people who love sensationalism more than they love honesty." She quickly added, "Of course, I do not claim to know you as your family does, but please believe that I put more weight on what I have seen of you than on any unsubstantiated story that I hear of you."

Cari let out a very long, very shaky breath before she added, "Thank you, Queen Susan – very, very much. I – I am sorry for taking so much of your time and concern over a misunderstanding."

Queen Susan's voice took on a slightly reproving tone. "Please do not be sorry, Cari, or think it an inconvenience. I know it can be monstrously difficult to be thrown into such an elevated, complicated, and demanding position as royalty with little or no warning, although you had even less than I did." She smiled half-reminiscently, half-encouragingly. "It takes some time to get used to it; I have been at it for nine years now, and I still run into many difficulties with which I need help or advice. I thank Aslan every day that He has given me siblings to help me bear those burdens." After a pause, she added, "And that He helps me bear them as well." She looked back over at Cari. "The first few months are the worst – in my experience, anyway. It does get better, though. Not always easier, but better." She smiled again – this time a smile of pure encouragement – and Cari nodded, a corner of her own mouth rising almost unconsciously.

The queen turned, and the two girls began to retrace the path their feet had made across the beach.

"I do know both of your aunts," the older girl said presently, "and they are women of the highest caliber, as well as blessed with great knowledge of the workings of your father's court. Your father says they plan to visit often, and I know they would be very happy to aid you in any way they can. And so will my sister and I, of course," she added quickly. "We usually see your father and Corin – and now you, Cor, and Aravis, of course – between two and four times a year, and we write back and forth even more frequently than that. I would love to exchange letters with you – as, I am sure, would my siblings – so that we can all keep in touch and learn from each other. I know I find exchanging honest questions and conversations with others to be one of the most effective forms of learning, and I, in turn, would not wish for you to feel that any questions you may have for us are silly or foolish. I hope we will all become great friends as well as neighbors, as we are with your father."

_Oh, for the love of Tash – or – well – whomever. I came here petrified Queen Susan would think of me as loose and perhaps get me punished accordingly, and now she's being incredibly kind and saying she and her sister – the queens of Narnia! – would love to be "great friends" with me. If I didn't know better, I would swear I am dreaming._

Finally, Cari managed a definitive if still slightly disbelieving nod. "Of course, Queen Susan. I – I am still working on forming penmanship that is fit for such occasions, but I shall do my very best."

Queen Susan smiled. "Please do not be worried about making a few mistakes, Cari. We all make them; the only One who never has is Aslan. If I wished to castigate you for errors, I should have to do the same to myself. I would far rather get to know you better and converse with you, mistakes and all, than not have any communication with you." Her smile broadened, even as Cari saw the twinkle leaping into her eyes. "Besides, I'm not so sure my sister will give you any choice in the matter."

This finally elicited a full smile from Cari as Queen Susan continued. "Speaking of whom – I shall have to remember to wrap her birthday gifts when we return to the castle – her birthday gifts from the boys and me, that is. It's our little tradition for me to do that with all of our gifts to each other on everybody's birthday, except my own."

"Oh." _I never thought about that. I wonder if Corin and Aravis are used to having things a certain way for their birthdays? I suppose I should ask them._ "Does Lucy do it then?"

Queen Susan shook her head. "No. Peter handles that – another part of our tradition. It's always been that way, and probably always will be – at least until we get married."

Lady Tormyn had left with the rest of the guests that morning, so Cari did not have the chance to play any more chess. However, the two queens corralled her after dinner and invited her to play croquet with them. Cari agreed at once, breathing an enormous inward sigh of relief at not having to participate in any activities involving the two kings, especially King Peter. She did not even have to speak much, since Queen Lucy spent most of the time enthusing over the many birthday gifts left for her by the departing guests. When she inquired about Cari's next birthday and discovered that it was eight months away, located in the murky shadowlands on the cusp of spring, her eyes widened, and she excitedly informed Cari that King Peter's birthday was but three days before hers. "We should have a joint party for the two of you next year," she exclaimed, "or some year very soon, at any rate! You would simply _love _Narnia in the spring, and of course we'd all love to have you."

"I'm sure she will consider it among the many other options she already has, Lucy," Queen Susan interjected when she saw Cari struggling to come up with a reply, "such as celebrating her birthday in her own country. In any case, it is a long way off, and we still have your birthday to get through first."

After the sun set, everybody headed indoors for more games. Cari played Jump-Crystals with her siblings, a few of the off-duty castle servants, and a very excited Queen Lucy, who spent much of the time telling stories about funny things that had happened on some of her and her siblings' past birthdays. Eventually, Queen Susan strode to the table and played one match before shooting her sister a meaningful look that coincided with King Lune ambling over to announce bedtime. Corin began to protest, as usual, but Cor's wide yawn cut his complaints short, and all four siblings turned to head upstairs.

"Already?" Cari heard Queen Lucy say plaintively to her sister. She turned just in time to see the younger girl looking at Queen Susan with wide eyes and a slightly protruding lower lip. However, one corner of her mouth quirked upwards as she saw the unmistakable twinkle in the younger girl's eyes.

The older queen narrowed her own eyes just as playfully. "Actually, _already_ happened about half an hour ago, Lucy. It's nearly midnight, and I can't wait up until two to wrap your gifts."

Queen Lucy stuck her lip out fully for all of two seconds and made a sound very much like a couple of light sobs before turning and flouncing dramatically out of the room. She turned at the doors and curtsied at Queen Susan and the two kings, who had also migrated over to the Jump-Crystals table.

"Good night, Mother – Father – Edmund," she announced, addressing Queen Susan, King Peter, and King Edmund in that order before sweeping around the corner. Cari could have sworn she heard a fit of giggles emanating from the younger queen's general direction as she, Aravis, and the twins turned to exit the room in turn.

Queen Susan sighed lightly and turned to her older brother, who looked as though he might explode with laughter at any instant. "Not so terrible as I expected," she said with a perfectly straight face. "She used to be twice as bad about it."

"Oh, no," King Edmund corrected her. "She was at least a hundred times worse."

His sister shot him an extremely withering look, and Queen Lucy's voice drifted in from just outside the room. "I heard that, Edmund Harlan!"

The younger king's face immediately turned the color of a ripe tomato, causing King Peter to howl with laughter. Even Queen Susan could not keep from smiling.

Cari's eyes widened ever so slightly. _He laughs a bit like Cor does. I don't think I've ever seen even Father laugh that hard._

The following morning saw the entire castle entering the great hall and singing Queen Lucy a song that northerners apparently sang to each other on their birthdays. This elicited a series of warm grins from the girl that made her fairly sparkle – nearly as much, Cari thought, as the necklace she wore, a delicate gold chain intertwined with beautifully wrought golden flowers and studded with blue jewels; it had a matching bracelet and earrings and perfectly complemented her periwinkle-blue-and-gold gown.

They all breakfasted upon a vast array of fruits, eggs, and a large number of flat, soft, sweet creations the Narnians called "pancakes" and ate in tandem with butter and a thick, sugary syrup Cari considered nothing short of heavenly. Apparently, Queen Lucy loved them above all breakfast foods and had them served every year on her birthday.

_Well, so will I, if I can,_ thought Cari as she poured syrup over her second stack of three cakes. _I have never eaten anything quite this good for breakfast in my life._

Shortly after breakfast, just as Cari and her family had finished wishing the queen a happy birthday, one of the fauns stationed in the entrance hall came into the great hall and whispered something into the ear of Mr. Tumnus, who was standing close to the monarchs. He in turn appeared to repeat it to King Peter, who called over King Lune, Cari, Aravis, and the twins.

"Mr. Tumnus informs me," he stated, "that we have three visitors here who have come to see the five of you." His eyes twinkled as he winked at Cor, who looked every bit as puzzled as his older sister.

_Why would anybody come to see us _here_ instead of at Anvard – especially if they asked for all five of us? I'm sure Father and Corin know no end of Narnians, but Aravis and Cor and I only know the ones we've met this week while we've been here – and most of them have already left Cair Paravel._

Despite her puzzlement, Cari followed her father and siblings out of the great hall, through the entrance hall, and onto the castle lawn, where the answer to her question awaited her in the form of a trio of very familiar horses.

"Bree!" exclaimed Cor immediately, and shot forward from the rest of the group to greet his friend. Aravis's lips twisted and then gave up to form a full-fledged grin as she hurried – in a slightly more restrained fashion – to Hwin. Cari, who found herself beaming, barely trailed Aravis and in short order reached an equally beaming Bren. After a moment of indecision, she reached out and embraced the neighing mare, who returned her greeting with an affectionate nuzzle to the shoulder. In short order, she, Aravis, and Cor had switched places and greeted each other's horses as well as their own, who were already being welcomed a second time by Corin and King Lune.

"So Bren, how do you like being back in Narnia?" Cari asked, at the same time Cor queried, "What, Bree – no roll to welcome me, then?"

Bree glared at him playfully, but his expression straightened as he stared at a point behind Cari's right shoulder. She and her family turned to see King Peter, Queen Susan, and Queen Lucy approaching them. They all stepped aside, and, to Cari's surprise, the monarchs greeted the horses as though they all knew each other already.

_Of course they do, genius. Bree, Bren, and Hwin all came back to Narnia in the company of King Edmund and Queen Lucy, whose party was headed back here. Of course they would have been introduced to the other two monarchs then._

King Peter's laughter brought Cari out of her thoughts; he had apparently developed some running joke with the horses about Narnian oats. "I hope you are all finding life in Narnia to your liking?" he asked the horses, once their own laughter had died down.

All three horses replied in the affirmative at once, and hurried to wish Queen Lucy a happy birthday. It was then that Cari noticed the small bundle laced around Hwin's back. According to the mare, it was a birthday gift, which the younger queen carefully untied from Hwin while thanking all of the horses profusely.

After the three Narnian monarchs headed inside, followed by King Lune, the horses and the four siblings embarked on a brisk walk around the castle grounds.

"So how has it been for all of you, really?" asked Cari after a few moments.

Bren grinned. "Wonderful – absolutely wonderful. We've all found our families again; they live in the highlands a score or so miles from here. Actually, I should say _family_, since we're all related to each other. I must say I've seen more trees in the past six weeks than I did during all the time I lived in Calormen." She tilted her head. "That is, I _think _I've seen more trees. Most of the ones I've seen love to move around." Her grin widened. "You should have seen Bree the first time these two trees switched places right in front of him."

Bree rolled his eyes at her. "You mean, right after the time you kicked Hwin in the stomach when you saw _your _first moving tree?"

"It was a big one, though, and I only saw it out of the corner of my eye," Bren defended herself – to no avail, as Bree and Hwin both chuckled. "I _thought _it was a giant!"

At this, both Cor and Corin doubled over laughing; even Aravis smiled. Cari, however, having decided she probably would have reacted in exactly the same way, patted Bren on the shoulder.

"So, Bree," Cor began, when the laughter had died down, "_do _Narnian horses roll after all, then?"

The stallion narrowed his eyes for a brief moment, causing both boys to snicker, and then nodded. "Of course. And greener grass for it I've never seen anywhere. Our family lives on prime ground for rolling and running – not to mention it has some excellent wild oats."

Hwin neighed lightly in agreement. "It is the most rich, beautiful country I have ever seen – even better than what I remember from my days there as a foal. Aslan has been good to us indeed."

"So when you say you've found your families," Cari inquired after several moments of silence, "do you mean you've found your parents? Does any of you have any siblings?"

"Well," answered Bree, "Hwin met both of her parents. Bren and I have only our mother left; our father died some years ago. And as far as anybody knows, we're each other's only siblings."

"For better or worse," added Bren, causing her brother to bump her playfully in the shoulder. "And Hwin has a younger sister as well – her name's Hyra, and she's just lovely."

"She _is _pretty," Hwin agreed.

Bren rolled her eyes ever so slightly. "Of course she is, Hwin, but you're just as pretty, and anyway, that's not what I meant. I meant she's lovely to be around." She turned back to the four siblings. "She managed to introduce us to every horse, goat, bird, dwarf, and every other inhabitant within several square miles in the first day or so after we got there. She gets on especially well with the dryads, and she's dragged us to dances with them practically every night we've been here. She's an excellent dancer herself; I think it runs in the family." She winked at Hwin, who lowered her head and murmured, "I'm not _that _good, Bren."

"Nonsense," Bree put in. "You can do much better than either of us."

"Well," Hwin pointed out, "you two were trained as war horses, which I suppose isn't very conducive to learning Narnian dances, and Hyra says you're both doing wonderfully well for being newcomers. Besides, the both of you can outrace any member of our family. And they'd like you just as much even if you couldn't."

The group continued out onto the beach after meandering through the castle grounds, and by the time they returned to Cair Paravel, it was nearly time for lunch, which turned out to be a light array of bread, meat, and plenty of berries and Queen Lucy's favorite cheeses. After that, everybody other than the on-duty castle servants adjourned to the lawn and enjoyed a variety of outdoor games; the three horses particularly enjoyed an odd amusement called football, in which the players of two opposing teams attempted to kick a ball into large nets on each other's side of the lawn. Each of them could convey the ball from one end to the other with a single well-aimed kick, an accomplishment even the centaurs were hard-pressed to match.

At tea-time, everybody filed onto the western terrace to find a variety of sweet baked confections – largely tarts filled with all manner of fruits – piled on two tables against the castle wall. Several other tables were set up with chairs surrounding them, but there was still more than enough room for the centaurs, horses, and others who would not be sitting after the normal human fashion. Piled upon another table set up perpendicular to the food tables was a host of gifts, which Queen Lucy spent the entirety of tea-time opening; it seemed that every resident of Cair Paravel had brought her something. The queen particularly liked the gift Bree, Bren, and Hwin had provided on behalf of their family; it was a set of jars filled with perfumes made out of sweet, wild-smelling herbs that could only be found in the highlands where they lived. As she did with every gift, Queen Lucy immediately leaped across the terrace and thanked the givers with a profusion of enthusiastic hugs.

_I should have expected that,_ Cari thought wryly as she watched Bree start in surprise at the zeal of the queen's greetings. _I hope she likes our present even half that well, though._

As it turned out, Queen Lucy apparently loved Cari's family's gift – a winter cape, commissioned by King Lune months before Cari had arrived in Archenland and wrought by the best artisans in Anvard and the nearby town. Its cloth was worked like a tapestry in designs of white, cream, gold, and various shades of blue, and it sported a cunningly worked gold chain to complement the gold-and-sapphire fastener. Cari had to admit that it beautifully complemented the queen's dress and jewelry, which she had by then learned were birthday gifts from King Peter, Queen Susan, and King Edmund. When Queen Lucy opened the box containing it, she squealed with delight and immediately rushed over to embrace every member of the family, giving Corin and Cor very red faces before all was said and done. After she got back to her seat, she donned the cape and, despite the summer warmth, kept it on for the rest of the afternoon.

The sumptuous birthday dinner ended with dessert in the form of an enormous brown cake covered with berries and chocolate icing. Cari, who had only eaten chocolate cake a few times since she had reached the north and thought it very nearly the most heavenly thing she had eaten, was thrilled to see this cake accompanied by the only food she thought better – namely ice cream, which she had had only once before and loved to no end.

After dinner, everybody headed back outdoors, this time to the lawn for a round of dancing, this one much less formal than the Midsummer festivities. There was no traditional first dance – the musicians simply seemed to play what suited them – and no opening speech from King Peter, merely an announcement that his sister's birthday dance had commenced. Cari did all she could to keep from dancing with anybody other than her father and brothers, but, at one point when they were all busy elsewhere, Mr. Tumnus asked her very kindly for a dance, and she accepted. _After all, it isn't nearly as easy for me to step on him. He has hooves, not feet. And he doesn't scare me the way the two kings do._

"I hope you have enjoyed your stay in Narnia, Princess Carisa?" the kindly faun inquired as the music began.

Cari nodded. "Oh, very much, Mr. Tumnus. I like being near the ocean again, and I love Cair Paravel. I have never seen such a beautiful building before, not even among the lovely marble mansions in Tashbaan. And I must say I am much more partial to being surrounded by grass and trees than I thought I would be when I got here."

The faun grinned. "I am glad you like it. I myself used to live in the western woodlands before I came to serve at Cair Paravel, and I am glad the woods here are so close to the castle, or I should miss them dreadfully."

He spent the next few minutes describing his cozy cave in the western forest to Cari, who was fascinated by the idea of making a cave look like the interior of a house. _I should think it would be a little too dark for my liking, though,_ she thought, _although I do love the idea of sitting on a couch and doing nothing all day but read._

When the music ended, Cari curtseyed to Mr. Tumnus, who bowed in turn. "Very well done, Princess."

Cari had thanked him and turned away before the sudden realization stopped her in her tracks. _I just got through a dance – in public, with somebody other than Father or Corin or Cor – without kicking my partner or stepping on his feet!_

_Of course you didn't step on his feet, genius. He hasn't got any._

_Still, though…I've never done that before, ever._

All of Cari's glee, however, vanished in short order when King Edmund approached her and asked her to dance. _Oh, no. Here we go again._

However, it did not go as badly as she had feared. The king kept her laughing with the story of one of the pranks he had played as a boy on his sisters, and he reassured her when she stepped on his toes halfway through the dance.

_At least I only stepped on his feet once – and I didn't kick him at all. That's progress._

"A pleasure dancing with you, Princess Carisa," King Edmund said grandly, his eyes twinkling, as he bowed with a flourish.

Cari could not help a half-smile from crossing her lips as she curtsied. "And you as well, King Edmund, although, if – if you would rather call me 'Princess Cari' – or – or even 'Cari' – it would be entirely fine with me, as I – my full name is – well – a bit formal, I think. If you like, of course," she added hastily.

King Edmund, whose mouth had twisted into the smile of someone furiously seeking to avoid a burst of laughter, nodded and allowed himself to grin widely. "Of course, Princess Cari." He bowed grandly again, bringing a slightly fuller smile to Cari's face, and winked at her before departing.

Cari had hoped that the dance she had just had would be the final one of the evening, but it was not to be. As the sun began to set, the musicians raised their instruments once again, and Cari suddenly found herself facing King Peter's blue gaze.

"Excuse me, Princess Carisa," he asked, "may I have this dance, or are you already taken?"

"Oh – well – no, King Peter," answered Cari, flustered. "That is – no, I am not already taken, so yes, of course you may have this dance." She put her hand, which had suddenly taken on a bit of a tremble, into his larger one, and spent the next few minutes concentrating as hard as she could on her steps while politely conversing with the High King over the Battle of the Flood, a subject they had settled on when he asked her how she liked her book. He proved an excellent listener and knowledgeable about the battle – _well, I suppose I should have guessed that before_ – and, like his brother, gently reassured her after each of the three times she stepped on his feet. _Blast it! The more I like what we're talking about, the clumsier I get._

When the dance finally ended, the king bowed. "Thank you for dancing with me, Princess Carisa," he said, as graciously as he had on the night of the Midsummer festival.

"The pleasure is mine, King Peter," Cari replied, exactly as she had before.

"I hope we shall have further occasion to talk about the battle when we meet again, Princess," the king offered as he escorted her out of the dancing area. "It seems as though you will be more of an expert on it than I by that time."

Cari gave him a small smile then. "I doubt that, King Peter, but I certainly hope I shall have learned more than I know now."

The king responded with another of his full, earnest grins. "I hope we shall also have the opportunity to discuss the literature you are fond of, as you said at dinner on your first night here," he said, even as Queen Lucy approached them to take his arm for the last dance. "I hope you enjoy the remainder of the evening, Princess Carisa."

As he walked away, Cari's eyes widened. _How on earth did he remember something I mentioned only in passing almost a week ago – especially when I admitted I knew nothing about the lays he is so fond of? _

_Oh, for heaven's sake, Cari, he's just being polite. And he's obviously intelligent enough to remember whatever it was you said if he wanted to. I'm sure he's used to remembering what his guests like in order to converse with them well – and you might just learn from that, seeing as you're royalty too. _

_Hmm. I suppose I should. Actually remembering what people tell me instead of just trying to get through conversations would be helpful, I suppose. Especially when I know I'll probably see them again._

_Right. In any case, just be grateful that you were able to talk to King Peter for a few minutes without stumbling all over yourself as you did last time – verbally, at least._

_Certainly. So easy to focus on when I stepped on his feet more times than I did before. Apparently it's either one or the other._

_Not necessarily. For instance, you neglected to ask him not to call you by your full name._

_Oh. Right. Well, I'll ask next time. Besides, he doesn't quite say it like everybody else says it. His voice drops on the second syllable. It makes my name sound a bit softer, and less regal and overwhelming. _

_Does that surprise you so much? Of course he'll be different from everybody else. He's the High King of Narnia. Just you remember that – no matter how easily he laughs or how much he reassures you after your stupid mistakes. He has a great deal more power than he lets on – far more than you'll ever have._

_Hmm. Maybe that's why he frightens me so much._


	26. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm sorry about the double-posting on my last chapter – I ended up posting it twice by mistake in an attempt to fix a couple of minor errors.**

After the sun set, everyone headed to the great hall to play a round of dice-bowls, which was apparently Queen Lucy's favorite indoor game. It required that the players be split into groups of four, with each of these split into teams of two, and each group was given a bowl with a pair of dice in it. The quartet seated at the head table had a bell, which they would ring to signal the beginning of each round. As soon as it rang, each quartet would spring into action, passing the bowl around so that each person could roll the dice into it as quickly as possible. Each number on the dice was assigned a score, so that different combinations produced different scores – except for a pair of threes, which automatically wiped out all points the unlucky roller and his or her teammate had scored during the round. Once one of the teams at the head table had rolled a hundred points, they rang the bell again, and the round was over. The points were tallied up at the tables, and the winning pair moved up one table closer to the head table, while the losing team remained – with the exception of the head table, where the winning pair stayed and the losing pair was summarily dismissed to the very last table. To add to the confusion, at the end of every round, everybody switched partners; Cari, for instance, sat at the third-ranked table in the first round across from Aravis, who was her teammate. They won the game, much to the chagrin of Cor and Corin, who were paired against them, and at the end of the round moved up to the second table to join King Lune and Mr. Tumnus, who had lost their own round. Mr. Tumnus moved so that Cari sat across from her father, and thus played with him during the next round against Aravis and the faun.

The game thoroughly confused Cari at first, but she caught on very quickly. Fortunately, she was never paired with King Peter, and teamed only once with King Edmund. Furthermore, nobody worried about proprieties of conversation, for the discussions during play chiefly consisted of, "Edmund, did you remember to write down our last point?" or "Come on, Aravis, double sixes now!" or "_Blast _it, Su, are you out for a record on double threes?"

Eventually – far too soon, of course, for nearly everybody's taste – the game ended, and King Lune herded his family off to bed after another round of birthday congratulations for Queen Lucy, who of course insisted on hugging them all once again.

_I wonder if she ever stops being cheerful,_ Cari mused as she pulled the bedcovers over herself half an hour later. _Probably not._

Sure enough, early the next morning, as King Lune and his family bade the Narnians goodbye after a hurried breakfast, the young queen showered them all with enthusiastic hugs. Her siblings, obviously tired from the late night, gave the family more subdued, but no less heartfelt and courteous, greetings. Cari sighed with relief when she managed to produce passably good northern curtsies for both kings.

"I look forward to seeing all of you again," King Peter told the five, and nodded to the party of servants behind them. He turned to King Lune. "Do let me know what you decide, Lune."

The older king nodded. "Of course. We look forward to it as well."

Before leaving Cair Paravel altogether, the family stopped on the castle lawn to bid farewell to the three horses, who were as sorry to see them go as Cari was to say goodbye.

"When are you going to visit Archenland again, Bree?" Cor wanted to know.

"Cor," Cari reproved her brother, "they've only just gotten to Narnia and found their families. You needn't try and rush them out of it – although we would love to see you whenever you do come," she added, turning to address the horses.

"We would love to come some time," Hwin replied gently. "We will let you know well in advance, though, so as to make sure we come at a time that is convenient for all of you. There is a good deal of traffic between Narnia and Archenland, so it should not be too difficult for us to communicate with each other."

Aravis nodded. "We will be looking forward to it," she said, her eyes shining with what Cari suspected was a slight sheen of involuntary moisture.

"As will we," replied Bren, then added, "And even if we weren't, Bree would bother us both into making the trip." She winked with one eye at her brother, who rolled both of his own at her. As Cari hugged her for the final time, she murmured, "Well done on all counts, Cari. You really are a princess, you know."

Cari shot her a questioning look. "If clumsy little me is a princess," she queried, only half-jokingly, "I wonder what one would call Aravis?"

Bren cocked her head to look her straight in the eye. "That's not what I meant, Cari," she said, her tone slightly reproving. "On the way here, you tried as hard as you could to do the right thing, no matter how afraid you were, and you've done that again here. You spoke politely to the kings even after you stepped on their feet instead of running away, for instance. You've obviously put as much effort into learning the northern customs and skills as you did into getting to Archenland safely. Not just anybody could do that – or _would _do that – you know."

Cari managed a half-smile in response. "I'm glad you think so, Bren."

"I don't think so," responded the mare. "I know so." She nuzzled Cari's shoulder affectionately one last time. "May the Lion bless you, Cari."

"What were you telling King Peter you'd decide about, Father?" Corin asked as the party rounded the first bend of the road back to Archenland.

"When we shall return here, Corin," his father answered. "There is a possibility we will come this autumn, but it may not be until spring. In that case, of course, it would not be until after Cari's ball."

Cari's face fell. _Oh, right. My ball._

A few days after she had reached Anvard, Cari had learned that all Archenlander royal children were considered of age to assume official duties at the age of nineteen. To celebrate this milestone, King Lune would hold a ball for Cari on her nineteenth birthday, as had been done for every prince and princess before her. Representatives from every province in the kingdom, as well as from neighboring countries, would be invited to the celebration, which would also include feasting and games. _Now that I think about it, it will probably be a good deal like the Midsummer feast._

_Oh, blast it. That means I'll have to dance with all sorts of strangers._

_Well, not all of them will be strangers. Father said you'll meet most of the highest-ranking provincial lords and ladies at the harvest and Yule feasts._

_Yes, but – foreign royalty, especially after what just happened in Narnia? And we have friendlier relations with the kings and queens there than we do with any other nation, according to Father. Won't people from other countries therefore be less inclined to be so forgiving when I step on their feet?_

_So don't do it, then. You have several months yet to work on your dancing and etiquette. You've already improved a good deal from when you first started taking lessons. You just need to improve some more._

"_Improve some more?" No, what I need is to be turned into another person altogether. Maybe then I could stop tripping and stumbling enough to act like a princess._

_But you _did _act like a princess last night. You got through a whole dance with Mr. Tumnus without stumbling, and you only stepped on King Edmund once. And you learned all the rules of dice-bowls very quickly, and didn't do anything particularly embarrassing. _

_That was the exception, not the rule._

_Well, another few months may make it the rule. At least you can try._

When they reached Anvard the following afternoon, Cari quickly lost all thoughts of trying to improve her skills for the ball in favor of trying to get through her apartments without tripping, for they were laden with packages of all shapes and sizes. She very nearly fell headlong to the floor after bumping into an especially square, solid one, and was only saved by crashing into a very startled Aravis.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Aravis!" she apologized, just as Maria popped through the door in front of them and exclaimed, "Princess Cari, are you all right?"

Cari nodded. "Yes Maria, I'm fine." She tilted her head toward the piles of packages behind her. "But do you happen to know what all of these are?"

"Why, they are gifts for the Lady Aravis," answered Treya, who had just appeared in the doorway behind the younger servant.

"Gifts for me?" Aravis sounded as incredulous as Cari felt.

"Yes," replied Treya. "And only the first few, I suspect."

"The first _few_?" Cari exclaimed, unable to contain herself.

"Well, yes," Treya continued. "You see, Princess Cari, when you were born – and when your brothers were born – all of you received gifts from every corner of the kingdom. However, since you, Lady Aravis – " here she turned to address the younger girl – "were born in Calormen, you of course did not receive any, so you are getting your share now. Since the king sent out official proclamations announcing your arrival just over a month ago, I would suppose these are just the first wave of presents, since it does take time for people to make them, or have them made, and then to send them. Apparently, Anvard has boarded quite a few messengers overnight in our absence."

"When you say 'the first wave,' then, how many do you expect in total?" Aravis finally managed after several moments.

Treya tilted her head thoughtfully. "Well, from what I can recall, I think we filled this room about three or four times when Princess Cari was born." She nodded briskly, as though to confirm her initial guess. "Yes, that sounds right. And of course we'll fill it another three or four times come your birthday, Princess Cari."

_Right. My birthday. The very last thing I want to think about right now._

Aravis spent the next several evenings opening her gifts, which, as Treya had predicted, kept on coming in droves. She received everything from perfumes to pieces of parchment with her initials wrought on them in paints and foils – this, Cari had learned, was known as "stationery" – to jewelry. There were even a couple of gowns from Archenland's Clothiers' Guild, with sleeves and overskirts made of beautifully wrought tapestry material. _Not unlike the cape we gave Queen Lucy,_ Cari mused as she admired the last gown, a wine-colored creation trimmed in gold thread. _No wonder Father says Archenland is known throughout much of the world for its tapestries – as if I shouldn't have figured that out already from living here._

Aravis, of course, got all manner of teasing from the twins over her new gifts; Corin, in particular, often asked if he could borrow the dresses for Cor. This, of course, invariably produced a scuffle, which led every time to Corin knocking his brother down. Cor, however, took it in stride; Cari supposed he was happy enough over how dramatically he was improving in the sword ring.

_They've all left me in the dust,_ she complained to herself one day after having been beaten particularly badly by Aravis and both of the twins. _Cor used to be almost as bad as I was, but now he's so much better it's just ridiculous. I will never go a day in my life without bruises._

_Well, look at the bright side. You're not any worse than he is at dancing, and you make up for a lot of your shortcomings in the schoolroom. Even Master Dorian said he's been pleasantly surprised by your progress, especially at history._

_Still, though. Aravis knows much more than I do, _and _she can swing a sword as though she were born with one in her hand. No wonder Father compliments her so much every time he comes to watch us, as he did today. Of course, I don't really blame him. Watching a person sword-fight is much more exciting than watching the same person take a test or read a book._

_Oh, come on, Cari. He compliments you on the progress you make in the schoolroom. It's not as though he has nothing kind to say to you._

_I know that. But still – even though he compliments me, he's barely run at me to hug me, like he used to, or – or taken my arm on the way to dinner, or everything else he used to be so fond of doing. _

Since the day's sword lesson had taken less time than usual, Cari decided not to go to her room to change for tea-time right away. Instead, she took the route Queen Lucy had taken when she had led Cari and Aravis to their apartments on their first day at Anvard. Instead of taking one of the right-hand turns, though, she continued straight to the end of the hallway she was in and, as she had done every day since her father had shown it to her, lightly fingered the last tapestry on the left-hand side. The most detailed of any tapestry she had yet seen in the castle, including her mother's, it depicted a stout, grinning golden-haired man, his head adorned with a jewel-encrusted gold crown and his arm around a beaming young woman. She wore a richly embroidered dress and a crown of her own, and she had long, sandy hair and blue eyes – and bore a startling resemblance to Cari, who, as she did every day, slowly traced the trajectory of the woman's white veil with her fingers.

"I do take after you, don't I, Mother?" she whispered aloud. "In looks, that is, at least. I'm sure I'm not half the woman you were – at least, not from what I hear of you. I haven't met anyone who didn't love you." _And I'm lucky if everybody who's met me doesn't think I'm some sort of crazy idiot._ "And I think I would have loved you, too. And I really, really hope you would have loved me – well, Father says you did before you died. He says you never stopped believing Cor and I were alive. I wish you were here, so you could see that you were right. Of course, if Father and Master Dorian and everybody else here is right, you know anyway, because you can see what happens here from Aslan's country." She sighed heavily. "I wish you could be here to tell me what you thought of all that while you were alive. It's all very confusing and hard to figure out, no matter how smart Father and Master Dorian say I am. And that's not even considering what I'm supposed to make of Tash and Zardeenah and all of the others. I don't know why so many people would believe in them if they weren't real. But then, Aslan is real, and nobody in Calormen ever talked about Him. I just don't know what to think of it, and I _hate _not knowing what to think of something." She sighed again. "Living in Calormen was – well, Arsheesh was horrible, and I wouldn't want to go back, not ever. But it was just a great deal – _simpler_, if you understand. I knew exactly what I would be doing every day, and I knew exactly how to do it, and I knew exactly what not to do so as to avoid one of Arsheesh's fits – well, some of the time, anyway. I didn't have nearly so much expected of me by so many people, and I didn't have to worry about meeting and pleasing all sorts of foreigners – especially not kings and queens. And I never had to dance, so I never had to worry about accidentally stepping all over people's feet and kicking them in the shins. I didn't have to worry about my next mathematics exam, or getting my arm bruised trying to sword fight with Cor."

Cari noticed then that she had been rubbing the same spot on the tapestry up and down, and she quickly moved her finger at the same time she shook her head. "Just listen to me. I must sound so ungrateful to you – I must be one of the luckiest girls in the world, actually, getting to live in a castle and have all sorts of gowns and jewelry and servants and – and a very good father who doesn't beat me." Her voice caught slightly. "I just wish I had you here, too. I wish Aslan hadn't taken you away before I could meet you again. I wish I knew for certain that you were with Him, like everybody says you are – or that you weren't. I wish you were here to tell me if I'm really as terrible at being a princess as I think I am, and I wish I knew whether Father and the kings and queens of Narnia really mean it when they say I'm not so terrible. I just – Arsheesh would have beaten me black-and-blue for making a tiny fraction of all the mistakes I've made, and these people don't even seem to be mildly angry at me, or disappointed in me at the very least." Her eyes moistened as she went on. "I don't know what to think of it. I can't help but wonder if you would have been disappointed in me – I certainly don't understand why everybody else isn't. Although maybe Father is; he's hardly hugged me or walked arm-in-arm with me lately, like he did when I first got here. Not that I would blame him at all for being disappointed, and I found it a bit scary getting hugged like that at first, anyway, especially after all that happened to me in Calormen. But I – since he doesn't do it any more, I suppose that's his way of saying he's displeased with me. And I've tried so hard, Mother, I really have. You wouldn't know it, given all the times I've made a complete wreck of everything, but I have repeated all the proper greetings and protocols and curtsies and – and everything to myself in my mind over and over, probably hundreds of times. And I've practiced all of those same things just as many times. It just doesn't come out right." She bit her lip and drew a shaky breath. "Maybe I'm just not meant to be a princess. I know Father said Aslan picked me, but maybe He didn't. Maybe Father's realizing that now." Her voice began to tremble, along with her lips. "I wish I could please him more. I wish I weren't so clumsy and awkward and nervous all the time. I wish I could be as good a dancer and swordswoman – oh, and now a tapestry weaver, too, since I've had to learn that – as Master Dorian thinks I am a scholar. Maybe then I wouldn't be such a disappointment to Father, and I wouldn't feel so – so strange and uprooted when people like the kings and queens of Narnia compliment me. Like Queen Susan – she believed me when I told her that rumor wasn't true, and she acted like she actually _wanted _to write to me and become friends with me. She acted like it didn't matter that I'm so clumsy and inept around her. She acted as though she actually _likes_ me. And I don't have any reason not to believe her – except that how could she have meant it? I mean, I can understand her being nice to me for Father's sake, but she – and Queen Lucy – seemed like they wanted to be around me for my own sake. I – I wish Father did, too. Well, I don't really know what he wants, as he does compliment me a lot on being a good scholar – but then he doesn't hug me like he used to. I really, really, _really_ wish you were here." One tear rolled out of the corner of each eye down its corresponding cheek. "I wish it so badly."

_Smack!_ The sound of a nearby door being abruptly closed startled Cari out of her ruminations. She reluctantly removed her hand from the tapestry, wiped the moisture out of her eyes, and headed upstairs to her room.

Cari was unusually quiet at dinner. The only set of full sentences she uttered came when Cor, in pushing her a pitcher of milk, hit a fold in the tablecloth with the vessel, causing some of the milk to slosh out onto her dress.

"Oh, well done, Cor!" she exclaimed, yanking her cloth napkin out of her lap and sponging the milk off as best she could. "Would you _please _just listen to me for once when I tell you to be careful about something?"

Cor reddened and winced slightly. "I'm sorry, Cari! I didn't mean for it to hit that snag, all right?"

Cari rolled her eyes, but, noticing that her father's conversation with Aravis had faltered, said nothing more, deciding instead to sponge the liquid from the tablecloth with a vengeance. She finished in short order and set the napkin down on the table next to her plate, then picked up the pitcher and poured the milk into her glass. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Corin snickering.

"Is there something humorous you'd like to share with us, Corin?" she asked him sharply.

Corin's eyes widened, and most of the grin left his face. "Not especially, no."

Cari, noticing her father glancing in their direction, closed her mouth on a biting retort and ate the remainder of her food without another word.

After dinner, King Lune, Aravis, and the twins adjourned to the solar for a few card games with some of the servants, gentlemen-in-waiting, and ladies-in-waiting, but Cari decided to go to her room and read her latest library book, a volume on the First Golden Age of the fifth century. However, she found it difficult to concentrate; reading about an era of peace, prosperity, and general happiness only served to remind her of all that was not prospering in her own life. Eventually, she gave up, went downstairs to wish her father and siblings a good night, and went to bed early.

After a night filled with its share of tossing and turning, Cari reluctantly forced herself out of bed the next morning. _Father'll be upset if I'm late to breakfast, after all – especially since we're visiting the town today for his biannual meeting with the Clothiers' Guild, the Cloth Merchants' Guild, and the cloth-producing farmers. I think I'd rather be in Cor's position than mine; I might learn a thing or two, and I'm far less likely to foul up anything sitting quietly in a meeting than trying to work in a cloth shop. I'm sure Cor would rather switch places, too, seeing as how he'd get to be with Corin all day then._

After finding that Aravis had already left for breakfast, Cari hurried downstairs as fast as she could. Just outside the breakfast room, she collided with her father.

"Oh, Father, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed as she threw her hand against the wall to avoid falling down.

King Lune, who had reached out to steady her from the other side, almost automatically replied, "It's all right, Cari." Both of his hands shifted as though to embrace her in greeting, but after a moment they fell back to his sides. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

Cari shook her head. "No, Father." As they entered the breakfast room, she added, "And – good morning, Father."

The king beamed then. "And a good morning to you as well, my daughter."

Within an hour after breakfast, the entire family, along with several guards, had departed on horseback for Archton, the nearest town, which was a few miles away from the castle. Cari, who had taken Naka out for some extra rides to better inure herself to the small mare, did not so much as come close to falling on the way.

_See? I can so do something I used to be horrible at without making an utter mess of it._

_Yes. Congratulations on riding a few miles on a sunny day along the smoothest road in the kingdom without falling off your horse._

_Oh, shut up._

As King Lune had informed his children a few days previously, his biannual meeting with the two guilds, as well as the farmers producing cotton, wool, and silk, always took place at the largest cloth store in the kingdom, in the middle of Archton. It served as the headquarters of Archenland's Cloth Merchants' Guild and was run by a partnership of four merchants. Two of them lived in the apartments above the store with their families, while the others lived in two nearby houses. All four of the merchants would be participating in the meeting, leaving their wives behind to run the store and look after their children. Corin, Aravis, and Cari were to spend the day helping the wives; as King Lune put it, "A ruler gains much more respect for his subjects when he has walked in their shoes." As Cor was the elder twin and therefore the future king, he would accompany his father to the meeting to learn more about his future duties. Corin spent much of the trip teasing his brother about this, much to Cor's chagrin. Aravis and Cari merely rolled their eyes until the group dismounted at the town livery, just down the street from the store.

"A fine day, this," Corin announced cheerfully, after he had thanked the livery attendant who had taken the reins of his horse. "Lovely for going out and playing games and buying sweets, and even lovelier for sitting in boring meetings all day, don't you think, Cor?"

"Ha, ha, ha," muttered the disgruntled Cor.

His twin only grinned at him more devilishly. "Let me know how it goes, Cor – oh, and let me know how many times you fall asleep."

Cor looked as though he might just try for the two hundredth unsuccessful time to knock his brother down. _Oh, no, you don't, little brother. You are not going to make these people think their future ruler is nothing more than an uncontrolled spoiled brat._

"Cor!" Cari exclaimed sharply, and her brother, startled, turned his head in her direction. "Not here, you don't. Keep it inside the castle."

"Yes, Cor, keep it inside the castle," piped up Corin, pitching his voice higher to imitate Cari's.

She immediately rounded on him. "Oh, don't get me started on you, Corin!"

The boy's eyes widened, and as Cari opened her mouth again, he quickly subsided.

_Oh, blast it. Here I am trying to stop my brothers from making spectacles of themselves in public, and what do I do? Make a spectacle of myself in public – or nearly so. At least Father didn't see it._

It was a very silent group that headed down the street toward the clothing store. When they entered it, however, they were greeted very warmly by the merchants and their families. No sooner had they finished exchanging greetings than a party of several more merchants entered the store. They were followed in short order by representatives from the farmers' and Clothiers' guilds, and then by more merchants. Before Cari knew it, she had been introduced to at least three dozen different people, and her father had whisked Corin away to the large back room normally used for the Cloth Merchants' Guild's meetings.

_Don't worry, Cor,_ Cari wanted to tell her brother as he left the room, but her words stuck in her throat. _I know he's still not happy with me about the milk incident last night – not to mention keeping him from fighting with Corin just now._ Before she knew it, her brother had disappeared through the doorway, followed by all but three of the guards who had come with the party. These remained in the front part of the store with Cari, Corin, and Aravis.

Two of the merchants' wives took most of the children outside, where a wagon awaited them for a day-long outing into the forest just beyond the town. Four remained, and of the four, three remained downstairs to help out the wives. Corin knew them and immediately set to helping them stock some of the shelves, which were lined with bolt upon bolt of cloth. Meanwhile, Taira, the eldest remaining daughter, who was lame and moved around on crutches, headed back upstairs to work on the lace she made by hand every day.

As Nialta, the tall, lean, dark-haired wife in charge of the store floor, explained to Cari and Aravis, the shelves were divided into sections according to fabric type, and in each section, the bolts were organized by color. Cari was mesmerized by the sheer variety of cottons, laces, velvets, silks, satins, and brocades, as well as by the number of shades she saw on the ribbon rack. Beside it stood a white wooden creation with several shallow drawers – _I suppose you could just as well call them trays – _that one could pull out to reveal spool upon spool of thread in every shade from granite gray to shell pink. There was even a shelf laden with implements from needles – some half the length of Cari's finger, others twice the length of her hand – to hooks that looked strangely similar to the ones she had used to mend Arsheesh's fishing nets.

After finishing the tour of the store, Nialta showed the two girls the book she used to keep the goods' current prices, as well as the procedures for measuring and cutting cloth. This was done on the far left-hand side of the counter, a wooden block with a metal-edged groove running across it. The back-facing side of the counter was marked with more grooves at regular intervals, which Cari recognized as measurement marks. _Thank heavens this day didn't happen until after I had that lesson with Master Dorian._

As Mena, the other wife left in the store – and Nialta's antithesis in looks, as she was petite, stout, and blonde-haired – propped the door open to signal that the store was in business for the day, Nialta assigned the two girls to the jobs of measuring and cutting cloth for customers, as well as helping weavers who brought in cloth to sell when needed. "That is, of course, unless either of Your Highnesses wishes to switch places with your brother," she told them.

"That boy could use some practice at a job that requires him to stay in one place for more than five seconds at a stretch," Mena added, grinning broadly.

_Hmm. True enough._

Aravis, however, did not seem to find the comment amusing. She said nothing, but Cari had known her long enough to read the tightness with which she pursed her lips and the slight narrowing her eyes.

_Well, all of this would be harder for her, I suppose. She's grown up used to people serving her, not the other way around. But that's also what makes her good at everything I fail at so miserably back at home. If I can outdo her at anything, this should be it._

However, Cari was disappointed in her last prediction, for, although she proved very exacting at measuring fabric once it was unwound from its bolt, the unwinding part proved much more difficult than she had first anticipated.

_The entire kingdom must have traveled here today to buy cloth,_ she grumbled inwardly as she dropped her fifth bolt of fabric in half an hour. Picking it up and hastily pulling the loose fabric straight over the measuring table, she apologized to the customer she was helping, the first in a line of four, as Aravis looked on. The younger girl was brushing her foot against the bottom of the counter structure repeatedly, which Cari knew signified her impatience. Fortunately the customer, a young woman a few years older than Cari, showed no signs of frustration; on the contrary, as almost every customer before her had, she merely curtsied again (as she had done once already upon initially seeing the two girls) and said deferentially, "Oh, please do not worry about it, Princess Carisa."

_Oh, brother. If I spend the entire day hearing people call me that, I will explode._

But that was not to be. Cari had been on measuring duty for less than an hour when Nialta, seeing the girl's struggles with the fabric, set her to cutting instead of measuring it. Aravis had no objection to this; apparently one type of service task was as bad as another to her. It did not take too long, however, for Cari to drop the scissors several times and cut herself with it once, making it necessary for Nila, Nialta's eldest daughter, to take her place.

"I'm sorry, Mena!" Cari exclaimed as the older woman led her to the tiny brick outcropping built into the side of the building – a low, roofed structure that housed the store's well. The guard who had been assigned to Cari – a stout, dark-haired fellow named Armand – waited at the door to the main building.

"Oh, do not worry about it, Princess," answered Mena, flashing her a red-cheeked smile. "My children have gotten far worse cuts than this. See? The blood is already beginning to slow."

_Not in flowing to my cheeks, it isn't, _Cari fumed inwardly. _Anyway, at this rate, by the end of the day I'll be black, blue, and bleeding all over._

Within a few minutes, Mena had bandaged Cari's hand with one of the many clean cotton scraps she kept nearby. "There's no better place to cut yourself than in a clothing store!" she exclaimed as she tied the final knot fast on the girl's finger. "There, that should do for the remainder of the day. Be sure to wash the cut and change the bandage once you get back to the castle, though."

"Thank you, Mena," Cari murmured, her head still slightly lowered.

The woman cheerfully waved it off. "As I said, Princess, I've seen far worse in my day." She winked at Cari. "Wait until you have children of your own, and you'll see what I mean."

_Children of my own? I'm not even married yet! And I don't want to be married any time soon. I don't want to be married at all, actually. Please, Zardeenah – well, or Aslan – let it be so._

However, she vocalized none of these thoughts, finding it all she could do to produce a nod and a half-smile.

Mena, however, smiled enough for both of them. "All right. Would you like to go back to the counter, or perhaps help your brother and the others with the stocking?"

Cari tilted her head. "I suppose I should try the second option, then, seeing as I have already injured myself at the first." She produced a wry half-smile.

Mena nodded. "In we go, then." She turned and opened the door back into the store for Cari.

However, Cari had no more luck at moving cloth bolts than she had had working at the counter. While carrying a pile off of the push-cart the merchants and their wives used to move large amounts of cloth at a time, she tripped and lost control of her bolts, all of which went sprawling across the aisle she was in. Two of them hit some startled customers on the legs.

Cari wanted to keep her face against the floor forever, but instead forced herself slowly to her feet. As soon as she began apologizing sheepishly, the startled customers recognized her and curtsied even more sheepishly, if possible. In the midst of it all, Mena arrived on the scene. Cari strongly suspected she was trying her hardest not to burst into gales of laughter.

When the customers had departed, Mena helped a very red-faced Cari pick up the bolts and put them in the correct spots. After the two were finished, she looked at the girl again. "Are you sure you're all right, Princess?" she asked.

Cari nodded. "Yes, Mena, I'm fine – just clumsy, is all."

Mena waved the remark away. "Nonsense. You're no clumsier than I've been many times. Now, would you like to keep doing this, or perhaps go back to the counter?" She suddenly held up a finger, causing Cari to blink in surprise. "Ah! Or, if you like, you can keep Taira company." She tilted her head inquiringly. "Do you perchance know how to make lace, or how to crochet?"

"Crochet?" Cari's brow furrowed in confusion.

"It's a process where you work the thread with a hook," Mena explained.

_Hmm. Well, I've never heard that word before, but I did mend Arsheesh's nets with hooks – and needles. That probably isn't what she was referring to, though._

"Well – um – I don't think so, Mena," she finally replied. "However, I've never been shown, so I – I suppose I can't be sure."

The woman nodded. "Well, if you like, I can have Taira show you. She'd love some company, I'm sure."

_And I'm sure you and Nialta will be that much happier without me down there to wreak any further havoc on the store. I suppose everybody wins this way._

She nodded back. "Of course, Mena. Thank you very much."

"Right, then." Mena turned and swept toward the end of the aisle, where Armand was waiting. "This way, Princess."

Cari – and her guard – followed the woman up the building's back staircase and into a neatly-swept hallway. Mena knocked lightly on the third door they came to, which was halfway ajar.

"Taira?" she called out. "Are you up for a bit of company, dear?"

Even as she spoke, she pushed the door three-quarters of the way open to reveal a small room with two windows on one wall and stacks of shelves along two more. These were stocked with bundles of threads and yarns, as well as various hooks, needles, and folded pieces of cloth. Near one of the windows sat a broad wooden table, its legs carved in rounded bubbles at various intervals along the straight portions. Seated on the chair facing the window was Taira, whose crutches leaned against the side of the table. By the time Cari entered the room, the girl had turned in her seat to face the two women. When she saw the princess, she immediately grabbed her crutches from their resting place and, in surprisingly short order, used them to rise and perform a curtsey in what was seemingly one long, fluid motion.

"Oh, Taira, please don't feel like you must stand!" Cari exclaimed apologetically, at the same time the other girl murmured, "A pleasure to see you again, Your Highness."

After an awkward silence, Cari cleared her throat slightly and answered, "And you as well, Taira. Please feel free to sit down; I did not mean to cause you the inconvenience."

"Oh, it's no inconvenience at all, Princess Carisa," replied the girl. "I'm very accustomed to getting up in that manner."

"Taira," said Mena, even as Cari nodded, "Princess Carisa has an interest in crocheting. Would you like to demonstrate it for her?"

The girl blushed slightly, but answered, "Of course. I – I'd love to, Princess Carisa," she added, turning to Cari.

Before Cari could reply, Mena clapped her hands slightly. "Excellent." She turned to Cari. "I should probably run back downstairs and make sure my children aren't wreaking too much havoc," she said with a wide grin. "If you need anything, Princess, please do not hesitate to ask."

"Of course, Mena. Thank you very much," Cari replied, then noticed her guard standing just inside the doorway. "Armand, you – it's fine if you would like to wait outside."

The man bowed in concert with Mena's departing curtsey. "Of course, Princess," he answered.

"Thank you," Cari said, then turned again to Taira, who had made her way to the corner of the room nearest the door, where for the first time Cari noticed another chair sitting. It did not sit for long, however, since, to Cari's dismay, Taira reached down and picked it up, supporting it against her crutch with one hand.

"Oh, Taira, please – I can get it!" Cari exclaimed, rushing over to the girl and holding out both hands. "Please don't trouble yourself."

"Are you sure, Princess Carisa?" the other girl asked.

"Of course," Cari answered, reddening, as she took the chair and set it down next to one side of the table. _Oh, blast it. I can't put it there – that's where she had her crutches._ Picking it up again, she carried it to the opposite side of the table and looked at the other girl questioningly. "Is it all right for me to set it down here, Taira?"

Taira nodded. "Of course, Princess Carisa."

Cari's fading redness immediately re-emerged. "Oh, and please, Taira, call me 'Princess Cari.' My full name – well, it's a bit long and awkward." She quickly added, "And you needn't call me 'Your Highness,' either. It's – well, even more awkward, really." _Hmm. Is that how Queen Susan and Queen Lucy felt when they told me to quit calling them "Your Majesty"?_

"Of course, Princess Cari," said Taira. "Now – do you crochet as well?"

"Oh – well, I'm not sure," Cari answered honestly. "Mena said it is done with a hook, and I have – well – mended and made things with hooks before, but I'm not sure if it was the same thing."

Taira's calm smile reached her speckled green eyes. "Well, let's find out, then."

She reached under the table and pulled out a long, shallow drawer, withdrawing several spools of thread and a few hooks. While she was doing this, Cari glanced at the handiwork the girl had left on the table when she had first risen. She let out a slight gasp; the strip of blue lace emanating from the thin silver hook, though made out of very thick thread, wove an intricate depiction of the now-familiar northern hillside flowers waving in tandem with their leaves against a finely-woven background of sapphire swirls.

"Oh." The sound of Taira's voice brought Cari out of her reverie. "Do – I mean, it's not my best work, but I – Mother said several of our customers had asked for more blue lace, and I do most of our handmade lace, seeing as everybody else is kept so busy running the store."

Cari shook her head. "Oh, no, Taira! I mean – it's beautiful. I did not think anyone could make something so lovely off of merely a hook, and not a loom. I love it."

The girl's face brightened. "You really do?"

"Oh, yes," replied Cari. "I could never make anything like it, I'm sure."

Taira tilted her head, causing her loose half-knot of red-streaked brown hair to slide to the side. "Neither could I at one time, Princess Cari. I simply had to learn how, and you may already know more than I did when I got started." She picked up the lace. "Here, I'll show you my next few stitches, and you can tell me if any of them seems familiar to you."

Cari was not at all surprised when none of what the girl did for the next minute or so made any sense. However, Taira did not mirror her pessimism.

"Don't worry about it, Princess Cari," she said. "With this thread it's difficult to see, anyway – here, let's try it with this one." She picked up a bundle of fine red yarn and a larger hook. "Let me start off on this one with some more recognizable stitches that are easier for us both to see."

To Cari's pleasant surprise, some of the stitches the other girl wove with the brighter thread bore resemblances to the needlework – _well, hook-work_ – she had done with Arsheesh's nets in Calormen. _She's much more graceful with her hook than I ever was, but the way she turned the yarn over it just there looks almost exactly like what I did when I worked new patches over bad spots in those nets._

Although Cari needed Taira's help to begin her own length of lace and learn the differences between the stitches, in fairly short order she had produced a few inches of a simple pattern in a very fine lavender yarn. _Hmm. It's lumpy and rather deformed, but I suppose it's better than nothing. Still, though, it's quite pathetic that I had to come up here to do something useful._

Just after noon, Mena called the girls downstairs for the midday meal, which she, Nialta, and Nila served in the back room. In accordance with long-standing tradition, it consisted of foods the guild members and farmers had brought with them that morning, which had been stored in the building's cellar to keep them cool.

"How is everything going, Cor?" Aravis asked the boy as they all sat side by side eating their lunch.

Cor shrugged. "All right, I suppose." He lowered his voice to a near-murmur. "I don't understand much, though. All I know is that the farmers all want the clothiers to pay them more money for their fibers, and the clothiers – and the tailors, too; they're a part of the Clothiers' Guild – want the merchants to pay _them_ more for the cloth they weave. There's some law here that says that all the clothiers in Archenland have to pay some perf – no, percent – to farmers of what the farmers spent to produce the fibers, and since many of the farmers trade goods instead of coins for the goods _they _use, it's hard for everybody to figure out. They're still trying to translate out the prices of all the goods – or, I mean, they were when we broke for lunch." He shrugged again.

Aravis opened her mouth to reply, but was interrupted by Corin.

"Fall asleep yet, Cor?" came his cheerful voice from his brother's other side.

Cor merely made a face at him. "You wish."

Corin grinned broadly. "Bet you'll make up for it this afternoon." He tilted his head in the direction of the main part of the store. "Meanwhile, I'll be out there having fun." He swiveled his head in Aravis's direction. "Right, Aravis?"

The girl awarded him a cool glare. "If you call running around and pelting other people with bits of fabric from the bolts you were assigned to take care of, then yes, you are right."

Corin rolled his eyes at her. "Oh, come on, Aravis, I only did it a few times. Maybe you're just jealous because you and Cari aren't having quite so much fun."

Aravis shot him a very dirty look. "Speak for yourself, Corin. According to Nialta, I am doing very well, especially considering I have never been set to a task of this type before." Cari caught the slight look of distaste in the girl's eyes. _I suppose she never worked for a merchant as a Tarkheena. She's awfully lucky Father asked her to live at Anvard, in that case._

"In any case," Aravis went on, "you would have to ask Cari what she has been doing, since she has not been working with me for the last few hours."

Corin turned to Cari. "Really? What – you dropped too many pairs of scissors? Or threw too many at Aravis?" His grin stretched from ear to ear.

Cari took a deep breath. _I must not scream at him,_ she whispered to herself. _Or threaten to smack him. Or encourage him in any way._

Unfortunately, Corin did not heed his sister's tense silence. "Oh, wait. I'll bet you threw a whole bolt of cloth at her. After all, King Peter says you throw so well." He curled his fingers to bookend the words "so well." "Or did you trip and cut yourself – " here he nodded toward her bandaged hand – "while you were trying to throw it? You do trip pretty well, too, after all."

_All right, that's enough. I am a clumsy idiot, and I know it. I cut myself at the counter, and I tripped and sent several bolts of cloth flying. Aravis can even do non-royalty-related tasks better than I can – and now I understand that. Add that to the fact that she's prettier, more graceful, and much better educated than I am. But I do _not _need Corin to remind me of my many shortcomings in public._

"You're going to find out exactly how well I _can _throw when you get my fork in your ear, Corin," she replied through gritted teeth, "if you don't put a cork in it, and I mean _now_."

"Ooohh!" her brother shot back at her sarcastically as he held out both hands as though to block anything she might throw at him. However, the look suddenly slid off his face as his wide eyes stared at a point behind Cari's shoulder. Before she could even turn to see who it was, she heard her father's voice.

"Carisa, Corin." Even before she looked into his eyes, she heard the disappointment and – _oh, blast it, he's angry too_ – in his voice. _And he _never _calls me "Carisa."_ His expression only confirmed her fears, as did his next words.

"I believe you were instructed to demonstrate your best manners here and not your worst?" he asked, giving her a look steely with a sternness she had never seen him display before. Her body gave an involuntary but noticeable shudder. Apparently Corin did not often see it either, for he subsided instantly and murmured, "Sorry, Father," as he lowered his head.

Cari forced herself to look into her father's now-stormy gray eyes – although there was a hint of a question in them as well – as she managed, "Yes, Father. I am sorry."

"I trust I shall see no more of this behavior?" the king reprimanded his children.

"No, Father," they answered in unison.

"Very well, then. Please keep that in mind for the remainder of the day," replied King Lune, even as the Mena, Nialta, and Nila began removing the plates from the table.

"Yes, Father," Cari whispered, but the king had already swept off to the other end of the room. Her eyes suddenly flooded with moisture, Cari did not hear Taira approach her, and very nearly jumped out of her skin when the girl's voice rang out at her side. "Would you like to return upstairs, Princess Cari, or would you rather work back down here?" Seeing the other girl start, she quickly added, "I'm sorry, Princess!"

"Oh, please don't worry, Taira," Cari managed, blinking the moisture out of her eyes as surreptitiously as she could. "If you would not mind having me back upstairs, I would love to work on the lace some more."

The other girl smiled. "Of course, Princess Cari."

Armand and Cari both offered to help Taira upstairs, but she politely declined. To Cari's surprise, she gracefully manipulated her crutches so that the two of them barely had to slow down for her as she mounted the steps. _Amazing. She's less clumsy with crutches than I am without them._

The two girls spent the remainder of the day working on their lace. By the time Mena came upstairs to fetch them, Cari had produced over a foot of what she saw as lavender lumps. However, Taira praised the work, saying it was excellent, especially considering that Cari had only ever worked with fishing nets before. "If you like, you can take it home with you," she said.

"Oh, I couldn't," answered Cari quickly. "These materials belong to you and your family and the other families. I couldn't take them from you."

Taira merely smiled understandingly. "But you're not taking them; you're merely borrowing them – the hook, at least, that is. And we have plenty of yarn already."

In the end, a blushing Cari ended up taking both hook and yarn with her all the way back to Anvard, where she barely said a word to anybody at dinner. Seeing her father – whom she could not bear to look in the eyes – made her unshed tears reappear quickly, and it was, after all, much easier to deal with them when nobody else was around. _That is, except for one person I can think of._

After supper, Cari quickly retreated down the now-familiar series of halls to the tapestried wedding portrait of her parents. Exhausted, she sank to the floor and leaned back beneath the window at the end of the hallway, staring up at the tapestry as she did so.

_Yes, it's me again, Mother,_ she murmured inwardly as she fingered the tapestry's edge. _I need to see you even more than usual tonight. I was a bit beastly to Cor last night, and it wasn't really his fault. Then I was very beastly to Corin today, and although that _was _at least partly his fault, I shouldn't have snapped at him like that. And the worst of it is how angry Father got at me. I've never seen like that before. I wonder if you did? From what everybody says about you, I'm not sure you ever did anything to make him so upset. I wish I had inherited that much from you._ She sighed deeply, even as the moisture began to seep out of her eyes in the form of tears. _I wish so badly that I could talk to you face to face right now. I was so frightened of Father during those horrible few seconds; I couldn't help it. When Arsheesh got that angry, I knew I was in for a beating, and I was afraid Father would do the same to me. I'm lucky Cor was right – he's apparently not the beating sort – but that doesn't mean he isn't mightily disappointed in me. He must regret more than ever that I am his daughter, not Aravis. She's better at _everything _than I am – it's not fair! I'm sure that, given the chance to try her hand at making lace, she'd have done better at that, too. Why did Aslan ever even send me back here? Maybe I belong more in Calormen than in Archenland. Maybe Arsheesh was right all those times he said I was worthless. And heavens only know Cor and Aravis probably would have done fine by themselves. In fact, my tripping and falling and getting sick hindered them more than anything I did to help them. I'm such a failure – even my own father sees that! He clearly loves Aravis more than he loves me – and I don't really blame him. _

The tears had now formed two well-worn tracks down her cheeks, but Cari was too overcome to wipe them away. _Would you have loved her more, too, Mother? Would you have been as disappointed in me as Father is? Would you have been even more disappointed? Would I have been as afraid to look into your face again as I am to look at Father's? Would you have thought me as great a failure as I think myself?_

"Hey, Cari." Cor's voice, though almost a murmur, startled Cari into jumping halfway to her feet before she realized who had spoken. Letting out a long sigh, she gradually slumped down against the wall again.

"Sorry," Cor offered before sinking to the floor a few feet away from his sister. "Didn't mean to scare you." Seeing her tears, he awkwardly looked in the other direction. "I should probably go, huh?" He made to rise to his feet.

Cari shook her head quickly. "No, Cor, you shouldn't – don't have to, I mean. Sorry." _It's not as though he has any less right to see this tapestry than I do; I know he likes it. And I don't want him to leave…even though I know I owe him an apology I'd rather not give._

Cor still looked uncertain, but after a few moments sank back down against the wall, even as his sister bit her lip for several moments and furiously wiped the tears off of her cheeks. "I know you didn't mean to spill the milk last night at dinner," she finally offered. "I acted fairly nasty about it, didn't I?"

Cor replied at first with a barely perceptible shrug, and took a few moments to look up at her, but when he did, she was relieved to see the usual teasing spark in his eyes.

"Well, it depends on what you _technically _mean by 'fairly,'" he said, curling his fingers around the word "technically." "If it only tends toward 'a little bit,' see, then I'd have to disagree with you. If it's more like 'a gigantic lot,' on the other hand, then you have it down."

Cari closed her eyes and sighed in relief, even as she shot him the first real smile she had come up with all day. _And I just finished crying – at least for now. This has been one insane day. _"I suppose you'll let me live it down in about ten years, then?" she finally replied.

Her brother flashed her a grin. "Maybe nine and a half – if you're good."

Cari rolled her eyes at him dramatically. This turned out to be a bit of a mistake, though, since it released her leftover tears onto her cheeks. She hastily wiped them away, half expecting Cor to redden and stand to leave, but he merely turned to gaze at the tapestry.

"Corin's not _that _bad, Cari," he finally said. "Of course he'll be a prat sometimes – I mean, he's not nearly as lovely as me – but he's not half so bad as Armand gets when he's angry…"

Cari shook her head, even though she knew her brother could not see it. "No, Cor, I'm not worried about him," she answered. "I – well, I know I angered Father, see." Shifting herself closer to the tapestry, she began tracing the hem of her mother's wedding gown with her fingers. "I really shouldn't blame him for being displeased with me – I mean, for today, but for all of the other days, too. If I were him, I suppose I would be disappointed in me, too." Her voice trailed off to a murmur as she spoke, aware of her brother's presence but oddly unfettered by it.

Cor's unexpectedly sharp reply brought her back to reality. "Where did you get that idea, Cari? When has Father been displeased with you before today?"

Cari turned to look at him then; his face was surprisingly earnest and free of redness. She shrugged. "Well…you know; I haven't exactly been the model of a good princess. You saw me trip and stumble all over the place in Narnia – and it's not as though I do any better here. Aravis can do anything and everything better than I can." She shrugged again. "It's obvious why Father would be more pleased with her than with me."

Cor stared at her as though she had just announced her intention to pursue fencing as a vocation. "What makes you think he's less pleased with you? He's never gotten upset at you before today – not here or in Narnia." He tilted his head sharply. "He hasn't, has he?"

Cari shook her head reluctantly. "No," she answered quietly. "But I can still tell he's displeased with me."

"Oh, really?" Cor's voice had risen from concerned to uncharacteristically exasperated. "How? Can you read his mind?"

Cari shook her head, oddly stung by her brother's tone; unbidden, the tears began to flow out of her eyes again. "No," she finally managed. "He used to – to – well, you saw him hugging us both when we first got here, and he'd always – you know – take my arm when we were going practically anywhere. But lately – well, ever since Narnia – he hasn't been that way at all." She shrugged slightly. "Not that he's to blame, of course. He – I mean, I would have been very disappointed with my accomplishments – well, lack thereof – in Narnia if I had been him. So of course he's not to blame." The sigh that escaped her lips then uncannily – and unintentionally on Cari's part – resembled a shaky sob. "I am."

There was a very awkward silence; Cari thought that her brother must have left until she risked an upward glance, which revealed a red-faced but still very present Cor.

"No, you're not, Cari," he finally managed in a low voice. "I am."

This brought Cari's head up sharply. "What on earth do you mean, Cor? It's not your fault that I'm a clumsy idiot."

Cor waved this objection away. "No, it's – it's not that. It's – " He let out an exasperated half-sigh as his face reddened even further. "It's just – see – I – I sort of told Father not to do that, all right?" He shot her a glance before quickly lowering his head.

"Not to do what?" Cari asked, now as confused as she was curious.

"Not to – to – to – well, hug you so much, all right? I mean, not because you didn't deserve for him to be happy with you, or anything. I just – I mean – I know you don't like anyone – you know – _grabbing _you all of a sudden, even – even if the person means it nicely, because it reminds you of back in Calormen, when – well, just back in Calormen." His mouth twitched uncomfortably. "And it – I mean, he sort of began it; he asked me if you were upset with him, and I said no, and he asked if there was any reason you were – were uncomfortable around him when he – well, greeted you in the mornings, or at dinner, and so on. And I said – now, don't get too upset with me, Cari, all right?" He shot her a pleading look, even as his face's color ventured into the borderland between red and purple. "I – I told him you just aren't – you don't like being grabbed or – touched all of a sudden, or anything. I didn't tell him why at all, of course," he added hastily. "But he said he'd try not to do it as much, so that he wouldn't make you so uncomfortable any more." He hung his head for a moment before forcing it back up. "I didn't mean to make you think he didn't – I mean, doesn't like you or anything – sor – I'm sorry." He opened his mouth again as if to say more, but apparently thought better of it and lowered his head.

Cari, speechless, simply stared at him.

_What on earth _can _I say?_ her mind finally managed after a few moments. _Poor Cor – Father put him in such a horribly difficult position, even though he didn't mean to. Hmm…that's a pattern with Father, isn't it? If Cor is right, he's actually been trying to make me comfortable all along, and look where we've both ended up. Cor felt pushed into a net, and I've been thinking Father's always disappointed in me._

_Yes, but that's not Father's fault. He was just trying to be a good father. And he wouldn't have done that if he didn't care about me. He must not be as disappointed in me as I thought. Maybe he doesn't think of me as a complete failure, as I feared he did._ She felt the tears squeezing out of her eyes again. _I wish he had asked me instead of Cor, though. Poor Cor! I know he'd rather talk about anything other than what Father asked him about. But he handled it so well! Heavens bless him, that was one of the most uncomfortably thoughtful things he's ever done for me. And it isn't as though he hasn't been under a great deal of pressure himself. Here I've been worrying like crazy over my own problems in veritable corners while he's had to deal with being presented all over the place as the next king – including in that enormously intimidating meeting today. He's probably been feeling just as tense and horrid about it all as I have about all of my mistakes._

"Cor," she finally said, her voice murmuring near whisper level, "thank you. You – I – I – " She shook her head and took a few moments to continue. "I'm really glad and thankful you did that, all right? You don't have to be sorry at all." She shifted her body to face her brother directly and tilted her head on her folded-up knees to mirror the angle at which her brother's was bent, as she had often done when they were children. "Cor, I mean it. You've done nothing to be ashamed of."

Her brother's brief glance upward combined with a half-smile, half-grimace, and – _is that a bit of wetness there in his eyes? _– but after a moment, even as his cheeks flushed, the smiling corner of his mouth curved upward just a bit farther. Cari answered with an involuntary, tear-filled smile of her own. _As long as he understands, we can confront any problem on earth…and he does._

"So, about things you do," she offered after a moment, re-orienting her head to sit exactly straight between her knees, "how was the meeting today, really?"

Her brother rewarded her with a grateful glance, although his grimace fully replaced his grin as he shrugged. "Well, I suppose I'd have to actually understand what everybody was talking about in order to say."

"Oh, don't put yourself down like that, Cor," Cari answered at once. "I heard you describing everything to Aravis at lunch today. You sounded as though you understood a great many things."

Cor rolled his eyes slightly. "Not a great many, really. Just a few. And I really understood most of it only because Father explained it to me during breaks."

"Still," his sister encouraged him, "you understand it better than I do. And it sounds like a very confusing subject. After all, you know how good I am at mathematics."

Cor shrugged again. "You're no worse than I am. At least they made written lists of how much all sorts of different things were worth in terms of our money. That made it easier to follow. So now I sort of understand how much farmers and clothiers and merchants have to spend and – what's that word they used? – oh, _invest _to make their livings. Did you know it takes nearly fifty crowns to feed a flock of three hundred sheep every year? And that's assuming the sheep don't get sick and require medicine, and it doesn't include the costs they wrote down for fence repairs and the costs of losing sheep to wolves and other animals. Really, I think the clothiers should pay the farmers more – although there are farmers who do some of their own weaving and sell the cloth straight to the merchants, so that complicates everything, too. It's all still very confusing." He shrugged yet again. "And they all want different things. Well, actually, they all want more money, but of course they can't all have it – at least, that's what Father says. And he had to try and make them settle on an agreement full of provisions that somebody or the other didn't like. I don't know how he does it."

Cari smiled encouragingly. "I'm sure that when he was your age, he didn't think he'd be able to do it, either, Cor. But now he can, and so can you when you become king. You're really smart, so you can learn it all eventually."

Cor sighed, but his expression had lost a good deal of its moroseness. "Right. And what does 'eventually' technically mean? If it's 'a hundred years,' then I'm right on track."

Cari rolled her eyes playfully at him. "Oh, come on, Cor, don't be so hard on yourself. I'm sure it won't take more than fifty."

Her brother stuck out his tongue. "Thanks a lot, Cari."

She merely grinned and nodded. "You're welcome, Cor." Her smile softened as she added, "And let's try not to fight in front of Mother, hmm?" She re-shifted her body to lean against the wall and gazed up at the tapestry again.

Cor's eyes followed his sister's. "Sorry, Mum," he murmured.

Cari shifted her gaze to his. "I think she'd be really proud of you, Cor," she said after a few moments.

Her brother reddened before responding. "Same to you, I'm sure," he finally managed, then added, "She might just figure we're completely crazy, though."

Cari smiled. "I wonder that about her every day," she answered, turning her eyes back to her mother's beaming face. _But she'd have been glad to have us back anyway…I think._

Her brother's soft reply brought the remaining moisture back to her eyes. "So do I."

**AUTHOR'S NOTE, PART 2: I'm sorry to have taken so long in posting this chapter – it took a lot more work than I'd anticipated. Cari is still adjusting to life in the north, and her growing pains are often growing pains for me as a writer, as well. This doesn't mean I've forgotten Peter or his siblings; it just means that Cari needs to get used to herself and her own family and country as well as to the Pevensies. Don't worry, though; you'll see more of them soon!**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE, PART 3: You may recognize the Narnian game of dice-bowls; I played it many times with my extended family when I was younger, and we called it "Bunko." (We didn't use bowls, though.)**


	27. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26**

**PRONUNCIATION GUIDE: Miera is pronounced MEER-ah.**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wow, I can't believe my story has already gotten almost 70 reviews! Thanks so much to everybody who has written one – I love your feedback! **

On her way to the solar, with Cor trailing just behind her, Cari repeated that morning's escapade by running into her father. This time, however, it took both of them to keep her from falling over.

"Sorry, Father – Cor," she apologized with a very red face.

Cor shrugged off the apology, and, seeing the strained look passing between father and daughter, quickly murmured, "See you soon, Cari," and scampered off.

Cari wanted nothing more than to follow her brother, but instead forced her feet to stay rooted to the floor and her head to tilt upward to look at her father.

"I'm sorry I ran into you, Father," she said after a few moments. _Yes, I know what else I should be saying I'm sorry for. I just can't make it come out yet._

King Lune shook his head briefly. "Think nothing of it, my daughter." He held out his arm for a moment, then dropped it and inclined his head back in the direction from which he had come. "Would you like to walk with me?"

Cari nodded mutely and fell into step beside her father as they made their way back toward the great hall. Her father said nothing initially, either, and the tension between them thickened until she could take it no more.

"Father," she began, "I'm sorry for – for upsetting you today. It was not my intention. I just – I – " _ Oh, no, you don't, Cari. You will _not _make excuses for yourself based on Corin's behavior, idiotic though it was. You're four years older; you should have known better._ "I allowed my – my displeasure with Corin to get the better of me. I am sorry that I did, and that I dishonored you in front of everybody else. I should have done much better, and I am sorry that I did not. I – I will try to do better, so that you need not be ashamed of me." She quickly glanced over at her father, who had raised his eyebrows and stopped in his tracks at her last statement.

"Cari," he replied, his voice an odd blend of reproof, earnestness, and concern, "I am not ashamed of you. I was temporarily displeased with you, but I have never been ashamed of you. I am sorry if I have made you think otherwise." His brow furrowed, and Cari wondered if he was confused, worried, or both. _Oh, bother. Now I've made Father think he's being awful when he's been nothing but wonderful._

Cari bit her lip and shook her head quickly. "No, Father, you have not. I just – I – I simply wish I had not displeased you. I am sorry that I did, and I am sorry that I have been slow to learn everything Mistress Morenna and Mistress Shona have taught me. I do try very hard to remember it all, and I will try harder from now on."

King Lune looked even more confused at this. "But you are not slow at learning anything, my daughter. I have never said that you were, or – I have not, have I?"

Cari shook her head, and her father continued.

"In fact, whenever I have spoken to your teachers, they have praised your efforts and your intelligence greatly," he said. "They have expressed surprise over the speed at which you have learned. I do not wish you to think I believe you slow or inept, for you are not." He bent his head slightly so as to look into his daughter's eyes. Cari lowered her own after a moment as her cheeks reddened.

"I – I will try not to be, Father," she fairly whispered.

The slightest hint of frustration entered the king's voice as he spoke again. "But you are already trying very hard, my daughter. In fact, I would sooner advise you not to try so much than tell you to try harder, and therefore worry and fret yourself more. I know your efforts will give you progress as time goes on. And in any case, you give your best effort in all of your endeavors, and you are honest and generous and kind. I would sooner see you with those qualities than simply able to perform dances perfectly." For perhaps the first time since Cari had been reunited with her father, she saw not a hint of a smile in her eyes – only warm, earnest sincerity.

After a moment, Cari briefly turned her head away in order to blink away the tears gathering in her eyes. She did not succeed entirely, though; when she turned back to her father, he plainly saw them, for he cleared his throat slightly and blinked in what she guessed was discomfort.

"I am sorry, Cari; I did not mean to hurt you," he amended quickly. "I did not at all mean to insult your dancing skills; I merely meant to say that your character matters a great deal more to me than your proficiency in any skill you have learned from your teachers."

_Did he just almost bite his lip there?_ Cari thought, but quickly snapped back to the discussion at hand. "Oh, I – understood you, Father. I know you meant me no insult. I just – " she pursed her lips thoughtfully for a moment – "I simply would be more pleased with myself were my progress quicker. But please do not think this means I am ungrateful for – for everything you have done for me. You have been so generous and wonderful and – " _No, Cari, you will _not _cry!_ – "such a wonderful father to me. I have never forgotten that, and I never will."

The king cleared his throat ever so slightly, and Cari could have sworn that his cheeks' characteristic ruddiness had deepened by a shade.

"I have never thought you ungrateful, my beloved daughter," he fairly murmured. "In fact, I give thanks to Aslan every day for bringing you back to me, and I also ask Him to help me, so that I never become ungrateful for having you. Indeed, any man would be a fool who lacked gratitude for having been blessed with such a daughter as you." He half-cleared his throat again before adding, "Or sister, in Corin's case – and if he has half your brain, he shall see it too, although he may never admit it." He paused at the doorway of the solar just as Corin yelled with delight; apparently he had just beaten Cor and Aravis, along with King Lune's chancellor, at a round of Jump-Crystals.

"Now who can't win a round to save his life?" he needled Cor.

Cari smiled then. _No, he probably won't._

Corin's high spirits subsided a good deal after she beat him at three straight rounds, however; he was begging for their third rematch when she departed for the bower so she and Aravis could work on the tapestries they had begun a couple of months previously, shortly after reaching Archenland. Her ladies-in-waiting were there, as well as Aravis's; some played games with each other, while others labored over handwork of their own. Lady Takiel and Lady Dara, who were the most accomplished seamstresses among Cari's ladies, assisted her on her loom, while Lady Renna and Lady Nenta, their counterparts among Aravis's group, helped the younger girl on hers.

"Whose genealogy shall we discuss tonight, then?" Lady Dara asked Aravis and Cari; for the past week or two, she and the other ladies-in-waiting had helped them untangle the complicated family histories of many of Archenland's noble families, including their own. "Or shall we pursue another subject altogether?"

The two girls exchanged glances; Aravis's practically begged for a change of subject, as she was not nearly as fond of history as Cari was. _I suppose we should discuss something different, then. After all, since I've been practically insisting on talking about subjects related closely to what Master Dorian is teaching us so that we learn faster, I should probably spend equal time on each subject. Except for mathematics and geography, that is. Ugh._

"How about the Clothiers' Guild?" was the first question that left her mouth, and, rather surprisingly, Aravis seemed to have no objection to it. _Maybe she's actually interested in learning as much as I clearly need to learn about it. And I'm sure the ladies all know more than we do. If they don't, Dara would at least know who does; she's one of the most knowledgeable people I've met here so far._

However, it turned out that, as usual, the ladies' combined knowledge kept the conversation going until bedtime. Lady Isabel's and Lady Anya's fathers both lived in provinces with particularly high numbers of cloth-producing farmers, clothiers, and merchants alike, and they had a good deal to share. Cari and Aravis bombarded them with questions, and Cari felt overwhelmed, informed, and confused all at once as the two girls headed upstairs for bed in the company of Cor and Corin.

_Corin. Right._ Cari sighed audibly, causing Aravis to throw her a questioning glance. Cari shook her head, however, and said, "It's nothing, Aravis. I just – I need to speak to Corin for a few minutes, is all."

Aravis nodded and headed down the hallway toward the entrance to the girls' apartments. In the meantime, both twins had turned to regard their sister with curiosity.

"Off to give him remedial history lessons, huh? That's nice of you, Cari," said Cor, grinning; everybody in the castle knew how much Corin hated learning his history.

Corin threw his brother a dirty look. "Ha. Just you wait till tomorrow, Cor. I'll give you a few 'remedial lessons' in swordsmanship after lunch."

If anything, Cor's grin only widened. "You wish."

"You're on," his twin declared, stretching out his hand, which Corin slapped, palm to palm, at once.

Cari couldn't help rolling her eyes. _Boys._

"Right, then. Night, Cari," Cor offered over his shoulder as he headed off to the boys' apartments for bed.

"Good night," Cari called to his retreating back, then turned to her other brother, who was regarding her with curiosity.

_Oh, blast it. He's probably going to tease me mercilessly over a simple apology. There's nothing for it, though, I suppose; I acted like a complete beast, and I can't go without saying I'm sorry for it._

"What? No list for me of all the monarchs of Archenland and Narnia and all the other kingdoms, then?" Corin asked, just as Cari opened her mouth. However, his grin was tinged with a glimmer of uncertainty.

Cari shook her head. "Look, Corin," she said, "I know it was a beastly thing to snap at you this morning and at lunch – " she stopped herself just in time from adding _all right?_ – "and I shouldn't have done it. I – I'm sorry." Seeing him redden, she added, "And I wouldn't have thrown my fork at you anyway. Well, unless you knocked me down on purpose in the sword ring."

Cor's face, which had reddened considerably and then lowered during Cari's speech, snapped upwards at her last comment.

"Hey!" he exclaimed. "I wouldn't knock you down on purpose – you're a girl. And you're my sister, anyhow." The bit of redness that had left his face while he had been speaking quickly seeped back, and it took him a moment to continue. "Only bullies and cowards do that." He lowered his head again, and Cari could tell he was nervously biting his tongue. "Besides, I suppose you ought to have thrown it at me in any case," he fairly murmured, before forcing both his eyes and the volume of his voice upward so that he looked his sister in the face. "I suppose I deserved it this time." He shrugged, and after a few moments, a bit of his usual spark returned to his eyes. "And if anybody ever _does _try to knock you down with a fake sword – or a real one – I'll knock _him _down. Even Cor."

One corner of Cari's mouth quirked upward as she rolled her eyes. "As if he would, anyway, Corin."

Her brother shrugged. "I'm just saying."

Cari grinned then. "And how do you know I wouldn't knock the person down myself?" _Sure, Cari. That will be the day the fish fly._

Corin's mouth twitched at this, but he said nothing. _I suppose he deserves credit for that. Not even I could sputter out that lie with a straight face._ Deciding to spare them both, she finally said, "Never mind, Corin. We both know it wouldn't happen."

He shrugged again, then looked back up at her all of a sudden. "You could just throw a stone at him – or a knife. You _are _pretty good at throwing, after all." He reddened again, although not as deeply as he had before. Before Cari could reply, he tilted his head suddenly. "You know, you should ask Father to have Master Orrick teach you knife-throwing; he's really good at it, even though he's the swordmaster. Although you could also ask for his brother, Master Ordell – he's the best knife-thrower in the province, and he helps train the soldiers in addition to his other duties."

"Master Ordell?" _I don't _think _I've met him._ "Have we been introduced yet?"

Corin shook his head. "Probably not. He spends most of his time in the barracks. But I'm sure you could use the target range with him when the guards aren't practicing there – especially if Father tells him to."

Cari pursed her lips thoughtfully. "I suppose, if it wouldn't be any trouble for him…I wonder if Father will agree to it, though. After all, all of you are quite good with the sword."

Her brother shrugged. "I don't think he'd mind – especially since you're all right at it already. At any rate, you should ask him."

Cari bit her lip. "Maybe," she answered. "I'll think about it, anyway."

Corin tilted his head. "What's there to think about? You like throwing things better than you like sword practice, right?"

Cari nodded. "In that context – yes."

Her brother clapped his hands together. "Good. Your thinking's done, so just do it, right?"

Cari let out a small sigh made of both indecision and exasperation, and was about to reply when Corin yawned. "All right, then – bedtime, I suppose, hmm?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, Grandmother."

Cari narrowed her eyes at him for a moment, then grinned. "Good night, baby brother," she said in her sweetest voice, deliberately emphasizing the last phrase.

Corin only rolled his eyes again. "See you tomorrow," he said, and turned around toward his rooms.

Over the next couple of weeks, Cari did consider asking her father to excuse her from sword practice in favor of learning to throw knives. _I can't possibly be any worse at it than I am at sword fighting. And that way I wouldn't have to constantly feel horrible watching everybody else do better than me right before my eyes, since none of the others practices at knife-throwing._

_True. But what if I turn out to be equally bad at each? What if I throw one wrong toss and hurt – even kill – someone? And even if I don't, what if Father refuses? What if he wants me to be a good swordswoman first? In that case, I'll never get out of the sword ring._

_Still, you could ask. Then at least you'd know for sure._

However, one evening the decision was taken out of her hands. The family was playing a round of cards in the solar, and the twins and Aravis were discussing the afternoon's sword practice, where Cor had very nearly beaten the younger girl for the first time ever.

"Looking forward to tomorrow's rematch?" he asked Aravis, who rolled her eyes ever so slightly.

"Of course I am looking forward to defeating you again," she replied.

"You wish," Cor retorted. "Anyway, I'll probably beat you in a week or two."

Corin tilted his head, a calculating gleam in his eyes. "How much do you want to bet on that?" he finally asked his twin, who glared at him before responding, "Ten shillings, then."

"No, you shall not, Cor – or Corin," King Lune put in, almost sharply. _Ha. I wondered how long it would take for him to remind the boys they're not allowed to bet each other actual money on anything._

Cor reddened slightly. "Sorry, Father." He turned back to Corin. "Loser cleans both our bedrooms, then?"

Corin grinned and shook his brother's hand across the table. "Done."

_Oh, honestly. You're down to betting the only – and very light, I might add – chores Father has assigned us now?_

Aravis rolled her eyes. "I hope you're ready to pay him, Cor," she said. "And anyway, you're lucky we're sparring with straight swords, not scimitars."

Cor shrugged. "Why would I do that?"

Aravis shrugged right back at him. "Well," she replied, "I'm simply saying it would be helpful to be able to fight with two different types of swords, as I can."

Cor's face reddened then. "Perhaps you should let me borrow yours," he answered. "I'm sure it wouldn't be that hard to learn."

Aravis narrowed her eyes at him, but before she could respond, King Lune broke in.

"Cor," he said, "I have no objection to you learning to wield another type of sword, but I am sure Master Orrick would agree it is best for you to master one kind before learning another. Otherwise you should run the risk of corrupting your technique."

Cor lowered his head and murmured, "Yes, Father," before turning to Aravis. "I still wager I'll beat you at it some day," he said.

"Fine," answered Aravis levelly before sharply turning to face the king. "Father Lune," she inquired, "does Master Orrick also know how to wield a scimitar, then?"

The king nodded. "To an extent. I am not sure, however, that he has your capabilities."

One corner of Aravis's mouth quirked as she bit her lip. "My capabilities were nowhere near the best in Calormen," she finally answered, "nor even to be counted among the good, I think. My father and brother and all my male relatives could do far better than I, and some of them could even throw the scimitars with as deadly an aim as they wielded them in their hands."

"Could you do it, then?" Cor looked mildly impressed.

Aravis shook her head. "No. It is very difficult to do properly; my brother – " she paused almost unnoticeably after the word "brother" – "said it took years to learn how, and even then he could not do it so well as my father."

A mischievous grin spread over Corin's face then. "So in other words," he said, throwing Cari an impish glance, "it'd be perfect for Cari to do, seeing as how she wants to learn knife-throwing – right, Father?" He beamed innocently at King Lune, whose brow furrowed. _Ha. He probably learned not to trust any of Corin's innocent faces a long time ago._

The king turned to face his daughter. "Is that true, Cari?"

Cari closed her eyes briefly as her face reddened. _Blast it all, Corin! One of these days I _am _going to throw something at you – even if it is only a couch pillow._

"I had considered it, Father," she finally answered. "But I did not – I mean, I do not mind continuing to learn the sword. Knife-throwing was simply a possibility Corin and I had discussed." She threw her brother a meaningful glance; he merely continued to grin at her.

King Lune rubbed his chin for a few moments before addressing Cari again. "Would you like to learn knife-throwing rather than practice at the sword any further, Cari?"

Cari's teeth, which had been worrying her lower lip while her father had been speaking, clamped down even harder as she felt the keen stares of her siblings. _Ouch! I should let up a bit. Thank heavens Father isn't taking this too badly, though. However, in any case, Corin's going to catch it. _

Finally, she managed a slight nod. "If it is all right with you, Father, then yes, I would," she answered, then added, "And only if it will be no trouble, of course."

Her father regarded her for a moment, then shook his head. "No, my daughter, it would be no trouble at all. However, you shall have to have a new teacher, for you shall be having your lessons at the same time Master Orrick is instructing your siblings in fighting with the sword." His brow furrowed for a few moments, and then he nodded. "I believe I shall ask Master Ordell to teach you. He is Master Orrick's brother, and highly competent with the knife."

Corin winked at Cari from beside his father. _And I can't even roll my eyes at him with Father looking at me. Yes, he is definitely going to catch it._

She turned to King Lune. "Thank you, Father," she said sincerely. "When would you like me to start?"

Two days later, Cari found herself at the target range, which was well within sight of the sword ring on the western side of the castle. Most of the range's brightly painted targets were used for the soldiers' archery practice, but some were devoted to knife-throwing. Next to those stood a few that the king used for his own private practice when the soldiers were not shooting at them. Master Ordell, a stocky, muscular man whose dark brown hair and squinting blue eyes bore a striking resemblance to his brother's, led Cari to the farthest target on the south side of the range, with her father trailing close behind them.

"Now, Princess Carisa," the knife-master asked her, "have you ever handled a knife before?"

Cari nodded. "Yes; I have cleaned fish – occasionally – and cut up other foods, as well as the nets I have mended." _And Arsheesh wasted no time in letting me know I was no good at any of it._ "I never became an expert in any of those tasks, however."

Master Ordell nodded back. "Very good. Now, from what I hear, you are skilled at throwing several different types of objects, so I anticipate you will do well with knives once you have been taught the proper techniques."

Cari felt her cheeks go pink. "Whatever you have heard may have been exaggerated, Master Ordell. I am not all that skilled."

King Lune grinned at the other man. "It was no exaggeration, Ordell. She has done very well at every throwing game she has tried so far."

Master Ordell grinned back, and Cari's cheeks went from pink to red.

"In any case, Princess," the knife-master continued, "before you actually begin throwing the knives, you must first learn how to grip them so as to make your tosses as accurate as possible." He turned around and knelt on the ground, where he had placed a thick leather belt with several holes, all filled with shimmering, well-oiled knives of various shapes and sizes. Without hesitation, he pulled out the smallest of the lot, a silver-handled, thick-bladed affair with a blade about the length of Cari's hand – or so she estimated from the length of the embroidered leather casing enclosing it – and made his way back over to her.

"This little man – " he tapped the handle lightly with his left pointer finger – "should make an easy enough beginning, Princess. Now, let us start from the beginning and learn how to draw the knife from one's belt." So saying, he slotted the knife into a hardened leather pouch sewn into the left hip portion of the double belt he wore across his chest and waist. Cari watched as he reached across his body with his right hand and drew it in one swift, effortless motion.

_Well, effortless for him. I'm sure I'll find all sorts of ways to foul it up. I'll bet I leave this lesson with at least five new cuts on my hands._

However, Cari only cut herself once during the session, and it was a shallow indentation that stopped bleeding after only a couple of minutes. She even managed to understand and demonstrate to Master Ordell's satisfaction the different arm movements he taught her to follow when preparing to throw the knife, and she also easily memorized and repeated the practice and safety rules he taught her.

"How did you like it, my daughter?" King Lune asked her on the way back from the armory, where Master Ordell had shown her how to stow the knives.

"Not nearly as little as I had feared," Cari answered him honestly. "I did not realize, however, that so much – preparation is involved in knife-throwing. It had never occurred to me that there were so many different ways of moving one's arms to affect one's throws."

"You appeared to learn the preparatory skills very quickly, though," her father answered. "I myself learned the art at a young age, but I did not learn quite so much in my first lesson as you did. You truly do have your mother's intelligence, Cari."

A genuine smile spread over Cari's face at the same time the redness did. "Thank you, Father." Her brow furrowed as a new thought came to her. "Did she also practice knife-throwing?"

King Lune shook his head. "No; she knew how to, but it was not her preferred mode of combat. She was much fonder of archery. In fact, she and Queen Susan often shot arrows together whenever they visited each other." His voice softened as he continued. "Your mother very much enjoyed the company of the Narnian queens. I know she must be thrilled to see that you get along so well with them."

Cari bit her lip. _He seems so utterly certain that she can see us from wherever she is – no, it's not "wherever" to him; I know he believes she's in Aslan's country. I wish I could have his confidence – although he's probably never heard the stories about the Blisses, the Midlands, and the Fire, since he didn't grow up in Calormen. Of course, if those tales are true, Mother would never have been able to enter the Blisses, since she was a woman – and that's the only place out of the three that anybody would want to end up in. I suppose that even if he had heard the stories I did, he'd rather believe she's in Aslan's country; it sounds even better than the Blisses. I'm still not sure _I _believe it, though; if anything, it sounds too good to be true. _

_Yes, but so did being a princess – and you've had a wonderful life here so far. Besides, you haven't prayed to Tash or Zardeenah or any of the others in – how long? A week, since you decided to try and see what would happen if you didn't pray to the Calormene gods at all? – and you haven't become pig-roast yet, as you feared before. Is it so hard to entertain the idea that perhaps Father is right about the Calormene gods you learned to worship being made up – or at least much weaker than Aslan? _

_Well, not Tash; Father and the others believe that he exists, but is as evil as Aslan is good, and not nearly as powerful. From one point of view, it's a likely idea – and technically consistent with the fact that I didn't _like _Tash, even though I prayed to him, as well as the fact that it wasn't him but Aslan who helped me get here – but from another…I spent fourteen years being taught there was none greater than Tash. Anyway, entertaining those ideas is one thing. Believing them is another. And even supposing they _are _true – what about Aslan's country? Of course I believe that He exists and that He can do an awful lot of things, but how do I know that bit about Him isn't made up? How do I know He doesn't just exist in this world, and that there is no other – or that if there is another, it isn't exactly like the Calormenes say it is?_

_Come on, Cari. You know that's completely logically inconsistent. Even if it weren't, though, what would convince you that Aslan's country is real, and that people do go to live there after they die? Would you believe it if He told you it was real? _

_I don't know. I suppose I've never heard Aslan lie about anything. On the contrary, everything He's said has been proven true. But still…_

_All right, then – would you have to see it to believe it, as you did with Aslan Himself? If that's the case, how can you know the Calormene version of things is real, then? You'd have to die first._

_Oh, blast it, this is insane. I suppose one just has to guess about which version is right. This isn't getting me anywhere._

"Cari?" _Oops. I bet that's not the first time he's said my name in the past half-minute or so._

"Sorry, Father," she said. "I was just thinking – anyway, I – I'm glad you think Mother would be happy to see the Narnian queens would befriend me." Without provocation, two pools of moisture formed in her eyes.

King Lune noticed this. "I'm sorry, Cari; I did not mean to cause you pain by mentioning your mother. I – I know you must miss her."

Cari quickly nodded. "Yes, Father, but you do not need to be worried about causing me pain, for I – I am always glad to learn new things about her. In any case, technically I suppose I should be worried about causing _you _pain, as you – you knew her better than I did."

The king regarded her thoughtfully. "That does not mean you have any less of a right to grieve for her, Cari. I know she is overjoyed to be in Aslan's country, but I know it would have been wonderful for you to be able to meet her in person when you got here." He paused for a few moments and added very quietly, "She would have loved you. No – she _does _love you; she just must do it from a distance. I can understand that you would wish it had been otherwise."

Cari couldn't help but nod again. "Yes. I do wish it had been." She bit her lip and blinked to clear up the moisture in her eyes.

King Lune's brow furrowed in concern as he turned to face her and gently put his hands on her folded arms. For the first time since she had met him, Cari saw unmitigated sorrow in his eyes.

"You are not alone, my daughter," he told her. "Aslan has His reasons for what He does, and He never errs; but I still miss your mother every day. Please do not believe it is wrong for you to do so, either."

"You do not believe it is wrong to wish she had not gone, even though – wait. You believe He caused her to die, then?" _Huh. I've never heard Father speak of Aslan in that way. He's always said Mother is in Aslan's country, but neither he nor anybody else has ever actually said Aslan just took her away. It doesn't sound like something Father would say about Him. That would make Aslan rather cruel – wouldn't it? Unless Mother angered Him very badly – but I don't believe she would have done that, especially given what everybody has said about her. Although I suppose perhaps one could anger Him by doing something I don't yet know about; I don't know a great deal about Him and what He likes and dislikes, really. One can anger Tash by doing any of thousands of different things._

_Well, Aslan _isn't _Tash, so it stands to reason He might do things differently, doesn't it?_

_Or it might not._

The king considered this for a moment. "I did not mean to make it sound as though Aslan _causes_ death, my daughter," he finally said. "He is good, and can only cause good things. What I meant was that He allowed her to die, because death has been a part of this world ever since the White Witch entered it when it was first created." Cari saw his own eyes take on moisture as he added, "However, He has made it so that whoever dies believing Him will immediately go to His country. So while it causes me pain to be separated from C – your mother, I do know where she is, and I know I shall meet her there when I myself die – or when the world ends and Aslan makes all things new, whichever comes first."

_Well, I've heard all that about the end of the world before. And I've been told what happened at its beginning. I never thought about it all in this context before, though. I never considered the idea that Mother died as an indirect result of what the White Witch did, as opposed to the idea that Aslan wished her dead._ _Still, though, if Father is right, He did let her die._

_And if Father is right, she's with Aslan now, and they'll see each other again some day._

_But what about me? I'm still not sure _what _I believe. I know Aslan exists, and is extremely powerful, and saved Aravis and Cor and me from all sorts of horrid things on our way here. But do I really want to believe everything else I've been hearing about Him – especially that He is goodness itself, and its one and only source – when even the thought of Him scares me so much? I'm really not convinced He's safe at all. And He let my mother die for some reason even Father doesn't know. Not to mention what happened to Ruhandi…Do I _want _to believe Someone like that is the greatest, best_ _Being there is? And even if He is really all that good, I don't know if He's trustworthy. After all, Father says Mother loved Him, and look what He allowed to happen to her. And look at where Cor and I ended up for fourteen years – and we never did anything to Him! At least, I don't _think _we did…_

"I know Aslan does not blame me for missing her, though, and neither would He blame you," King Lune continued, breaking Cari's train of thought.

"Are you sure she didn't do something He thought was wrong, then?" came out of Cari's mouth, to her complete surprise.

Her father frowned. "What do you mean, Cari?"

"Did Mother do something to displease Aslan, that He would – let her die – even if He wouldn't say so?"

King Lune hastily shook his head. "No, my daughter. Aslan is not vengeful or easily angered. I have only known Him to be merciful and kind; He has given me compassion and second chances where I deserved none, and I know many others who can say the same as well. And He forgave even King Edmund's betrayal of his own siblings, to the point of sacrificing Himself in his place. No; I do not know His reasons for allowing your mother to die, but vengeance and pitilessness are not among them. His reasons are His own, and He does no wrong, even though I often wish He had not allowed things to happen the way they did." He sighed then, and Cari could see the moisture still in his eyes. "But then I remember that He sees and understands all things, and not just some, as I do. He knows the _why_sthat I cannot comprehend. And He has never deserted me – or your mother – even when I thought He had." He turned to stare straight into his daughter's wide gray eyes. "He never deserts _any _of His own, even when they cannot see Him."

Before Cari could reply to his words in her own mind, much less with her mouth, their discussion was promptly interrupted by Corin, who was being chased by Cor out of the sword ring; apparently Corin had teased his brother one too many times for the latter's liking. Aravis followed the pair at a much more stately pace, rolling her eyes.

_Even when they cannot see Him, hmm?_ Cari mused that evening as she gazed at the tapestries her mother had sewn depicting the Battle of the Flood. She had headed to the library for another new book, but found herself distracted by the tapestries and her memory of the conversation she had had with her father about them just before the family's departure to Narnia. Almost automatically, her eyes gravitated to the face of the Lion woven subtly into the scene portraying young King Arbior praying as morning broke over the Winding Arrow. Her mind quickly recalled her father's explanation of why her mother had woven Aslan into the tapestry.

"_She had been in the archives downstairs and read the surviving remnants of Arbior's journal. In it, he said that when he lifted his head after a long night of prayer, he could have sworn he saw the air around him oddly golden and Aslan's face vanishing into the morning mist. He said it was the first time in years that he had felt any hope of keeping Archenland from disaster."_

_I never asked Father if any of King Arbior's soldiers saw Aslan, but from what he said, it sounded like they didn't. Even the king barely saw His face. I suppose that's why Mother made it shadowy instead of solid. But I see her point. Clearly, she believed what Father told me about Aslan not deserting His own, even when they cannot see Him. I suppose that could go for barely seeing Him, as well. If I had been King Arbior, I would have wondered if I had merely thought I'd seen Aslan because I'd simply gone crazy, or wasn't seeing clearly after a sleepless night, or just wanted to see Him so badly that I'd imagined it. Why does that sound so familiar?_

_Oh, wait, that's it! It's because that tapestry looks so much like Cor's description of his journey into Narnia over the mountain pass. He said he couldn't see Aslan until the morning, and even then all he saw was His face vanishing into a golden mist. But that's because He licked him on the forehead first._

_All right. So that's another example of what Father said about Aslan not deserting people, even when they didn't see Him – at least, not at first. I suppose that if Mother had made a tapestry about Cor's journey, she would have sewn Aslan's face into it much like she did in this one. _She traced the outline of the king's figure absentmindedly. _Still, it looks like something else I've seen. I'm not sure what, but it reminds me of another tapestry I've seen here somewhere._

Cari bit her lip for several moments, but could not come up with a definitive candidate among the castle's dozens of tapestries. Finally, she gave up and continued on to the library, where Miera helped her select a book about the spread of the Calormene Empire between the fourth and seventh centuries and its effects on the northern countries, especially Archenland.

_More like conflicts than effects,_ she mused a couple of hours later as she picked her way through the book's introduction. Among other things, it told her – as far as she could make out – that a period of over a hundred years in between the late sixth and late seventh centuries had been called the "Age of Fire" because the Tisrocs used creatures called firebirds to attack and take over the entire territory between Archenland and the Old Calormene Empire. Indeed, apparently the Tisroc Arash had almost succeeded in destroying both Archenland and Narnia. _Firebirds must be powerful creatures, then, _Cari thought, then gasped as she turned the page to reveal a vivid illustration of a horrifying, enormous bird whose plumage, a vibrant blend of fiery red and orange and even gold, looked more like flames than actual feathers. The pupil of its one visible eye – its oddly triangular head, crested with a diadem of blue fire, was tilted to the side – almost pierced the page, a flash of gold from the heart of a black circle. _Ugh. I wonder how it sees out of that._ Cari shuddered, even as she yawned. _Blast it. I need to go to bed, and I haven't even gotten all the way through the introduction. This book is much slower going than I'd anticipated; it's almost as bad as the Lay of Arbior by Callius that I tried to read in Narnia. I don't think I've been educated enough to read this book yet. _She yawned again._ I should have known it would come to this. Miera warned me that this book's language is a bit old-fashioned. Maybe I should ask her for an easier one – or maybe I should read farther in my general history book first. Or the history of Archenland I got from the library when I first arrived here. They're both easier to understand._

_Fine. But tomorrow I am going to finish that introduction first. I'm not going to just leave it unfinished._

Cari did indeed finish the introduction, but it proved difficult. One of the few things she understood, however, was that the Age of Fire had come to an abrupt end near the close of the seventh century in a mighty battle that had destroyed the houses and vegetation in what Cari now knew as the great desert between Calormen and Archenland. Apparently, the Tisroc Arash had sent part of his army to attack Cair Paravel by sea, and he himself, along with the remainder of his army, had met forces led by Archenland's Queen Jada, along with a Calormene lord who had joined the side of the northerners. As far as Cari could tell, he had been related to a great Calormene magician referred to only as the "Flame Sorcerer," who had led a great force of firebirds to support the Tisroc's armies. The Archenlanders had been greatly outnumbered, but nevertheless had won the battle because Aslan had sent a force of phoenixes, which apparently were the only creatures who could kill firebirds. Also, He Himself had appeared at the end of the battle and killed the sorcerer.

As Cari turned the page to reveal the last part of the book's introduction, she found herself facing an illustration of the magician who had commanded what the book's author clearly believed to be the deadliest army ever to face the northern countries. Her eyes instantly widened as she took in the man's garb – a draped amalgamation of purple, black, and white robes trimmed with gold – and nearly left her head altogether when she saw the man's crown, a spiked wreath of dancing flames. _I've seen that drawing before. I know I – wait! That man looks exactly like the one from the tapestry between the entrance hall and my rooms. It was part of the first set of tapestries I noticed the day I arrived here. It showed him facing off with a northern queen, a Calormene lord, and some phoenixes, only I didn't know what phoenixes were at the time. And wasn't Aslan with them? And I thought his crown was made of some type of odd grasses, but it must have been made of flames instead. Hmm. I wonder if the man in the tapestry down the hall really _is _the sorcerer. I might be remembering it wrong._

_Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?_

Cari bit her lip as she hesitated for only a moment, then slid purposefully off her bed and headed out of her apartments. She waved to Soren and Theodore on her way out, then proceeded through the maze of hallways that led to – _Ah! There it is!_ In her haste to approach the object of her curiosity, however, she failed to notice Miera rounding a nearby corner and coming straight toward her. She was saved from a collision only by the librarian's last-minute swerve away from her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Miera!" she exclaimed as the older woman leaned into the opposite wall to re-orient herself. "I didn't even see you – I didn't mean to run into you or anything!"

Miera smiled understandingly. "Don't worry about it, Princess Cari. You didn't run into me in any case, so no harm done." Having steadied herself, she took a step toward the princess. "How do you like your new book?"

Cari paused a moment before answering her. "It is – very engaging," she finally managed. _Well, that much is true. It engaged my mind to the point of wearing the poor thing out._ She hastily gestured to the tapestry next to her, which portrayed the scene she had come to see – and, she noticed out of the corner of her eye, the man facing the Archenlander forces was in fact almost a perfect duplicate of the sorcerer depicted in the book. "In fact," she continued, "I believe this series of tapestries shows some of the events it describes."

Miera regarded the tapestries critically for a moment. "Yes, it does," she answered. "This is the series of events that ended the Age of Fire." She turned to Cari. "Have you already gotten that far in the book, then?"

Cari shook her head. "No. I read about it all in the introduction, though in abbreviated form, and I saw an illustration there that reminded me of this tapestry." She indicated the tapestry in front of her. "I am looking forward, though, to studying the Age of Fire and the battle at the end in the classroom with Master Dorian. It sounds like a fascinating story from what little I have read, and his – well – perspective always adds to what I read in books. Not that the books you have lent me are lacking in any way, of course," she added hastily. "I just love hearing stories as well as reading them."

Miera smiled. "I understand what you mean, Princess. Actually, this particular story is a favorite of mine. Dorian and I discuss it from time to time; he is also quite fond of it." Eyes alight with enthusiasm, she raised one inquiring eyebrow at Cari. "I could tell you the story now, if you like – unless, of course, you would rather wait until you have read more on the subject. Or unless you would like Dorian to tell it; he's very knowledgeable, as you have said."

"Oh, no, Miera, it's fine," Cari replied quickly. "I mean – I would love to hear the story, if it wouldn't be too much trouble for you."

The librarian fairly grinned. "Oh, trust me, Princess Cari, it's no trouble at all." Her brow furrowed for a moment. "Now, how far have your lessons gone into the history of Archenland?"

"Master Dorian has brought us as far as the mid-sixth century," Cari answered, then turned to Miera inquiringly. "That's right before the beginning of the Age of Fire, right?"

The other woman nodded. "Right. Now, during that time, a great, wicked Calormene sorcerer, who had spent his entire life working spells with fire, somehow managed – historians disagree on exactly how – to obtain or conjure a number of enchanted flames that were impossible to put out. He used them – " she paused and furrowed her brow, apparently trying to decide how to phrase her next words – "to produce firebirds, which are soulless creatures made entirely out of flame. They destroy everything and everyone they touch, and when they were first created, it was thought they could not be killed.

"Now, during the late sixth century, this sorcerer – whom history now knows, of course, as the Flame Sorcerer of Calormen – joined forces with the Tisroc, who utilized the firebirds in his campaign to conquer the northern world. The sorcerer always traveled with him, for only he could actually control the creatures, who would otherwise as soon have destroyed the Tisroc's men as his enemies, if it meant they had prey to feed on. Together, they conquered much of what is now the northwestern Calormene Empire and the southern part of the great desert, and easily enough, for any city or state that dared resist was utterly destroyed by the firebirds. Now, at that time, the great desert was much smaller than it is today, but it was still substantial enough to pose a serious obstacle to the Tisroc's ambition to conquer Archenland and the other northern nations. So for the next hundred years, he and his descendants settled for terrorizing Archenland with periodic raids, with the aid of the sorcerer. That, of course, is why that period is called the Age of Fire." She walked down the hall to her left and pointed to one of the tapestries there, which depicted the sorcerer surrounded by several of the horrifying creatures Cari had seen illustrated in the book.

"He lived that long?" The realization that had dawned on Cari a couple of sentences previously made its way out of her mouth as Miera paused for breath.

The librarian nodded. "Part of his sorcery. Actually, nobody knows how old he really was; even the most reliable historians disagree about that. In any case, he spent that period amassing more and more firebirds in preparation for a planned invasion of the north. Finally, in the seventy-seventh year of the seventh century, the Tisroc Arash deemed the time ripe to attempt to conquer Narnia and Archenland. He had obtained neutrality agreements from Telmar and Kulon, and Nakorus actually sent mercenaries to help him. He planned to set out in the middle of the spring, when his armies could march north without fear of encountering the harshness of the winter weather." She stepped slightly to her right and pointed to another tapestry, this one portraying the sorcerer in the company of several men, who were clearly the Tisroc and some of his lords.

"However, before the Tisroc and the sorcerer departed for the north, their plans encountered an obstacle in the form of the sorcerer's only son, a man named Lord Kumaril. He had not taken part in any of his father's evil activities after breaking all ties with him after the – " here she paused for a moment – "death of the sorcerer's wife – the boy's mother – at the hands of her husband. The young man, having heard of his father's plans to wipe out both Archenland and Narnia, mounted his best horse and fled north with a few of his most trusted friends in order to warn the newly-crowned Queen Jada of Archenland." She proceeded to the next tapestry order, which showed a number of young Calormene men riding their horses across a plain. Cari could almost see the grasses waving at the speed of their passing.

"When they reached Anvard, the castle guards were initially suspicious of Lord Kumaril and his friends, but eventually admitted him to the throne room to speak with the queen," Miera went on, and indicated the tapestry that had first caught Cari's eye on the day she had arrived at Anvard – a depiction of the obviously skeptical Queen Jada speaking with the desperately earnest Lord Kumaril. "From surviving records, we know she was initially inclined to disbelieve him. However, she sent her speediest scouts as far south as Tashbaan, and they soon returned with confirmation of Lord Kumaril's story.

"At once the queen mustered her army and sent messengers north to warn Narnia – a journey that was delayed by a late snowfall in the mountains. The day before they were to depart, Aslan appeared to speak to the queen and the young lord." She pointed to the next tapestry over, a rendering of the two startled young people confronted by the Lion. "He told them to make for a certain spot at the edge of the desert and await the Calormene armies there. He also spoke to the assembled army and asked for volunteers to form the front lines in the upcoming battle. A group of phoenixes – in those days, nearly as many lived in Archenland as in Narnia – offered themselves up for this most dangerous of assignments, and He blessed them and breathed upon them all.

"After that, Aslan departed for Narnia, where the Tisroc had sent a part of his forces, along with the Nakorusian mercenaries, to attack Cair Paravel from the sea. Meanwhile, Queen Jada and Lord Kumaril led their own armies south to the spot where Aslan had directed them." Miera stepped over to the tapestry Cari had originally come to see, which portrayed the queen and the young lord – and the birds that Cari now recognized as phoenixes – encountering the sorcerer. Woven into it beside Queen Jada, more prominent than His face had been in the tapestry of King Arbior but still a bit more shadowy than the figures beside Him, was the great golden Lion Cari had remembered seeing before. _Hmm. I didn't notice His…translucence so much when I saw it before._ "Though He was in Narnia during their journey, several sources confirm that both the queen and the lord said they saw the Lion's shadow walking next to them from time to time."

_Hmm. Very much like Arbior's experience._

"The armies fought a bloody, fiery battle over the next three days that has known no equal in the history of the world, either before or since. This greatly dismayed the sorcerer, for not only did the Tisroc's forces greatly outnumber their opposition, but also, for the first time ever, his firebirds, which he had thought immortal, had met their match in the phoenixes. Before that time, firebirds had been the only creatures that could kill phoenixes even beyond their normal ability to burst into flames and be reborn, but when Aslan had breathed on the queen's phoenixes, He had granted them the gift of rising again even after dying at the hands of firebirds. Up until then, they had been able to kill firebirds only by dying themselves; now, they could finally defeat their mortal enemies and rise again to kill others." Miera gestured to the next tapestry over, a conflagration of burning birds and clashing soldiers. "Still, even with the phoenixes' new gift, it looked by the end of the third day as though the Tisroc's forces would win the battle – even after Queen Jada killed the Tisroc himself at the end of an hour-long duel, which, I must say, has inspired some thrilling poetry." She flashed a smile at Cari, who was wondering if the great poet Callius had written a lay about it. _I'm sure King Peter would know._

"However," Miera continued, "at the end of the third day, Aslan reappeared. He killed the sorcerer, as well as all of the remaining firebirds, and after that the battle turned into a rout. Those who remained among the Tisroc's original army – and they were not many – fled, but most of them died in the desert, for the sources say that the destruction caused by the battle had widened it into its present size. Only the site where the Tisroc and the sorcerer were killed was preserved; we now know it as the great oasis between Tashbaan and Archenland." She gestured toward the final tapestry, which portrayed the Lion in the middle of a flying leap toward the gape-mouthed sorcerer, who, Cari noticed, had lost his crown – as, all around them, most of the Calormene soldiers laid down their arms. Two of them, however, were fleeing the scene of the battle, and one of them was holding the sorcerer's crown.

Before Cari could ask Miera about this development, the older woman continued with her story. "Meanwhile, with Aslan's help, the Narnians had defeated the forces the Tisroc had sent to attack them. Altogether, the loss to Calormen was so severe – and the Tisroc Arash's successor, his oldest son, so young – that the empire ceased to become a military threat for many years afterward, and the northern countries enjoyed an age of peace that lasted until the coming of the White Witch just over a hundred years ago." She smiled as she added, "Also, Lord Kumaril chose to remain in Archenland, where he married Queen Jada the following year. Their wedding tapestry hangs a few halls over, near your parents'."

Cari temporarily forgot her question about the sorcerer's crown. "Queen Jada married a _Calormene_?"

Miera nodded, a wry smile on her face. "Several of the chroniclers felt exactly that way, I think. He was the only Calormene ever to marry into a northern royal family. But, according to the few writings of his that remain, he loved Archenland greatly, and loved its ruler even more. By all accounts, his new subjects were initially quite skeptical, and some even feared that he was working on behalf of the Tisroc, but in time he won the vast majority of them over with his obvious devotion to his wife, his country, and Aslan."

Cari wanted to say several different things all at once, but ended up merely shaking her head.

_I wish I had gotten the chance to ask her what happened to the crown before Corin came tearing around the corner,_ she mused later that night as she lay in bed. _Maybe Master Dorian and my history textbook will discuss it._ She turned over in her bed and sighed. _As if I needed another reason to be glad I'm not a queen, anyway. Poor Queen Jada. And I thought being a princess was difficult. _She sighed again. _ Right. From here on out I will not complain – at least not so much – about my mathematics lessons. Or my dancing lessons. Or Corin's many wonderful hijinks. _She smiled in spite of herself._ Besides, if he goes too far, he's pig-roast. And he knows it._


	28. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am so, so sorry for taking such a long time to post this chapter! I have had a lot to deal with in RL, and my story has suffered as a result. Please rest assured that I do **_**not **_**plan to give up on it; I will still continue to post chapters, and I plan to produce the next one in much shorter order than this one. **

**PRONUNCIATION GUIDE: Sorry I forgot to put this at the beginning of the previous chapter – but Kumaril is pronounced KOO-muh-rill.**

The following day, Cari finished the material in her first mathematics book. After praising her progress, Master Dorian gave her a new one. While thrilled with her progress, Cari groaned when she glanced at the book's first chapter. _Oh, blast it. It's going to take me hours to get through a single lesson. _ She sighed as inaudibly as possible, since her tutor was only a few feet away. _So much for borrowing a new book on the Age of Fire._

Half of Cari's predictions proved true; while she managed to take less time per lesson than she had feared, she found herself with a good deal less time for extra reading than she had had previously. However, she did manage to find out a tiny bit more about the fate of the Flame Sorcerer's crown from the general history of Archenland she had borrowed from the library months earlier. Near the end of his account of the battle, the author related:

_By the time Aslan reached him, the sorcerer had lost his crown. None of the three major sources says how, although they all agree that two of his Flame Guardians were seen fleeing the scene with it after his death. They all also point to instructions the sorcerer had supposedly given all the members of his order before his death – namely, to hide it where only a direct descendant of his could find it. Supposedly, the crown could transfer the sorcerer's powers to said descendant. Theories abound regarding the object's location, but none can say where it is with the certainty of direct evidence._

Cari shuddered when she read the last two sentences. _Ugh. I hope no one ever does find it. The last thing Archenland – or any other place in the world, for that matter – needs is another Flame Sorcerer. And I don't think more firebirds would help matters, either._

However, she did not have long to consider this, for the next day, the entire household was in a flurry of packing and preparations for their trip northeast to the province of Kemmern. They would stay with King Lune's sister Lady Lina, who lived in the southern part of the province with her husband Lord Aren, and also take a day-long trip to the nearby city of Nord for the king's meeting with the miners', blacksmiths', and jewelers' guilds. As with the trip to Archton, all four royal siblings would travel with him and assist the owners of the meeting site – in this case, a jewelers' store.

_Lovely,_ Cari thought as Naka picked her way along the path among the rolling hills in the eastern portion of the province of Arch. _Now I can add losing gemstones and hammering my own finger to the never-ending list of clumsy things I've done._

They reached Lord Aren's castle late that night and were welcomed graciously by his entire family, which included himself, Lady Lina, and their children. Kenna, the elder of the two, was accompanied by Derick, a lord of northern Arch and her husband of several months; despite her weariness, Cari was startled when King Lune enthusiastically congratulated them on Kenna's obvious pregnancy. _Nobody ever did that back in Calormen. Well, that is, none of the women I knew back in Calormen ever got that happy over another's pregnancy. They only gave her their restrained best wishes for a healthy son to make her husband proud, and promised to pray extra hard to Enza for a safe delivery. The men simply never mentioned it at all. I suppose I shouldn't have thought northerners would act the same way, though._

In any case, the king did not seem to be contradicting any northern customs, for both Kenna and her husband beamed and thanked him sincerely – as did Lord Aren and Lady Lina when he congratulated them on their approaching grandparenthood.

"Ah, but the one you should really be congratulating is Kenton here," Lord Aren said, winking at his son, a strapping lad of seventeen. "He has, after all, been longing for ages for a nephew to instruct in his many masterful sword skills."

Kenton rolled his eyes at his father. "Sure, once he's nine or ten years old. Until then, Kenna's just going to make me baby-sit him."

"Fine. You can just duel me until then," answered Derick, grinning. Kenton shot his brother-in-law a very dirty look.

The following day saw both Kenton and Derick in the castle's sword ring, dueling not only each other but also Aravis, Cor, Corin, and Lord Aren. Even King Lune fought a few rounds while Cari and Kenna sat nearby, playing Jump-Crystals and watching the matches. Cari noticed that Kenna beamed with pride and happiness whenever her husband won a duel, which was quite often. She even threw in a few cheers, which startled Cari greatly until she finally became more or less accustomed to them.

"He's the greatest swordsman in northern Arch," Kenna said, clapping as her husband scored a point against her father. "That's one of the first things I noticed about him. Father invited him and his father to a tournament here a few years ago, and he became the first man in several years to defeat Lord Declan. He's easily the finest swordsman in this part of Kemmern, perhaps even in all of it," she added, seeing Cari's confused look. "Lord Declan was none too happy about it, I can tell you. He immediately challenged Derick to a bout at boxing, and he was called a few times for breaking the rules in his aggressiveness. He finally did beat Derick fair and square, but Derick congratulated him so nicely that I think it took much of the joy out of winning for him. That was another of the things I noticed about Derick," she added, beaming again. "Well, two, really. He bows spectacularly well, and he isn't quick to anger – the last being more important to me, of course, especially since I ended up marrying him."

_It would be for me as well,_ mused Cari. _Well, that is, assuming I would want to be married, which I don't; but of all the married girls in the village, it was very easy to tell which ones had husbands with temper problems. They were always the ones who showed up looking like me – bruises, whip scars, and all._ She looked up just in time to see Kenna blowing her husband a kiss. _I don't remember seeing many girls – if any – who were that happy with their husbands, though. I suppose there is something to this northern custom of not marrying girls off against their wills._

"Lovely move, Derick!" Kenna called out to her husband, then fairly squealed as she rubbed her large belly. "Oooh! He heard me!"

"Derick?" Cari's brow furrowed.

Kenna shook her head. "Oh, no. I meant the baby." She grinned as she rubbed her stomach again. "I think he hears it when I speak loudly – or even quietly, sometimes. He kicks then." She patted one side of her belly. "And he just loves Derick's voice! Whenever he hears it, he taps and bumps all over in here."

Cari's saucer-wide eyes finally narrowed a bit after several moments. "How do you know it's a _he_, Kenna?"

Her cousin laughed merrily. "Oh, we don't know for sure! I simply called him _he _as soon as we found out about him, and Derick just sort of picked up on it." Her smile softened as she added, "We'll be happy with either – boy _or _girl – as long as the baby's healthy, of course. We even have names picked out for both possibilities – Aren for a boy, Kandra for a girl, after Derick's mother." She grinned as she added, "Father has no clue, though, and neither does my mother-in-law. Whichever one of them the baby gets named after is in for a rather large surprise."

Cari managed a smile as she nodded in reply. "I – I'm sure either one would be happy to have a child named after them," she said.

Kenna flashed her another grin. "Of course, my brother thinks we're going to name the baby after _him_. He thinks he deserves it merely because he'll probably actually have to hold the poor thing every now and then." She winked. "That's what's so much fun about being the eldest and having children before your siblings. You can threaten them with having to hold the baby all the time if they don't behave."

_And what if I don't ever have children because I never get married?_ Cari answered mentally, but managed another nod instead. _Besides, I really didn't hate taking care of Cor when we were little. I rather liked it, actually – most of the time – and I'm not sure I would dislike having a child at all. It's simply not worth what it takes to get said child, although Kenna certainly seems to think so. She certainly seems fond of her husband. Perhaps she's one of the lucky ones._

The following morning, King Lune, his children, and Aravis packed up early and traveled the five miles into Nord inside an hour.

_Thank heavens,_ Cari thought as she dismounted at the livery among a chorus of yawns from herself and her siblings. _Too much longer and I'd have fallen off of Naka altogether._

"Don't worry, Cor," Corin told his brother, who looked no less tired than Cari, although markedly more cheerful. "The ladies here make _really _good food, so at least you can eat well in between naps…"

Cor merely rolled his eyes. "Whereas you can eat well between slaving away at making, pretty, sparkly jewels for girls," he replied.

Corin looked as though he wanted to take a flying leap at his brother, but King Lune chose just that moment to clap his hands and announce, "Onward we go, then," and the younger boy was relegated to a very nasty look. Cor replied with a wide grin, and he and King Lune led the way to the store smiling. Aravis and Cari bit their tongues to keep from chuckling aloud.

"Really, though," Aravis addressed Corin after a few minutes, "what tasks shall we be performing? I do not have a great deal of knowledge about jewelers' arts."

Corin shrugged, and for a moment Cari thought he would not answer her, but eventually he did open his mouth.

"They'll probably start you two on polishing stones," he said. "That's what I did up until a couple of visits ago, when they let me mount a few of the gems. It takes forever, though; I'd rather polish stones and string pearls. Besides – " he shrugged again – "it's only a day, and we won't be back for another two years. Next year we have the butchers' and farmers' and bakers' guilds, and the carpenters and stonemasons and woodcutters, and those meetings are a lot more fun." He grinned mischievously at Cari as he added, "Well, _technically _it's not the meetings – it's the places where we hold them. For the farmers' and food guilds' meeting, we get to go to a bakery, and Kerna – the lady who runs it – makes the best chocolate cake there is." His eyes took on a reminiscent gleam as he added, "Not to mention the hundreds of doughnuts and tarts. And there's a chocolatier's shop down the street that we always visit after the meeting."

Aravis raised one eyebrow at this. "Really? I have not seen the inside of a chocolatier's shop since my days in Calormen."

Corin shrugged. "Well, we don't have many of them in Archenland, but that one's the best by far." After a short pause, he added, "And that meeting will be the second one of next year; Father says he likes to save the best for last." He grinned. "Not that the other one will be so bad. I get to work in the wood shop at the carpenters', and it's a great deal of fun."

Cari's brow wrinkled. "Work in the wood shop? Doing what?"

"Oh, lots of things," answered her brother. "They still won't let me use the saws – " he gave an exaggerated eyeroll, which elicited large smiles from both girls – "but I do get to do sanding and some carving. Tovin and Kellor and Helma – they're the carpenters' apprentices – are all simply amazing. They can make practically anything out of wood."

_Carving? Sawing? Combined with me, that's asking for a catastrophe of some sort. I'd best stick to the sanding._

Fortunately, no major catastrophes awaited Cari at the jewelry store. As Corin had predicted, she and Aravis were set to polishing members of the store's host of gems, a rainbow of pebbles in colors and shades Cari had not even known existed. Before they began, however, Tama, the wife of one of the jewelers who owned the store, showed them the hair brooches the jewelers and their wives had wrought for them. Cari's, a series of silver swirls meant to encircle the half-knot in which she had become accustomed to wearing her hair, was studded with purple and white jewels, as well as enameled flowers that matched those in the two necklaces her father had given her. Aravis's, a gold affair with garnets, rubies, and diamonds, sported red and white enameled birds instead of flowers.

Both girls thanked Tama profusely for the items, but as Cari shifted hers slightly in her hands, she noticed something. _It's missing three gems from those mountings around the largest flower – I wonder if they fell out?_

Tama, seeing Cari's furrowed brow, was quick to reassure both girls. "You may have noticed that each of your brooches is missing a few gems," she said. "That is because you will be the ones choosing which jewels I shall put in the mountings to complete the brooches. I have a selection over here for each of you to choose from." She gestured to a table with several finely carved metal bowls on it. Inside each bowl were several sparkling gems of a certain color. Cari noticed that all of them appeared to be the same size. _There must be several hundred gems inside these bowls alone,_ she marveled. _I wonder how many thousands more – probably tens or even hundreds of thousands – this store holds? _ Glancing to her right, she noticed that even Aravis, who had seen her fair share of jewels during her time in Calormen, had widened her eyes as she took in the bowls' contents.

"Any of these gems will fit into the mountings on your brooches," Tama informed them. "Just let me know when you have finished your selections, and I shall mount them at once."

Cari took a while longer than Aravis to choose her gems, but eventually settled on a diamond, a peridot, and an amethyst. _They do match the flower colors nicely,_ she mused as she handed them over to Tama, who thanked her and directed her to the next room, where Glaina, Tama's eldest daughter, set her to polishing emeralds.

Fortunately, due to her caution Cari did not drop many of the stones, and when she did she was not alone. A few feet to her right, Corin had already leaped off his stool to the floor several times before the first emerald slipped out of Cari's grasp. In fact, as she bent down to retrieve the jewel, she heard the _clack _of one of her brother's sapphires hitting the floor next to her hand. She picked it up along with her emerald, noting two smudges on the blue stone as she did so.

"Thanks," mumbled Corin as she handed him the sapphire, and promptly dumped it into the bowl he was using for his finished gems. Seeing her raised eyebrows, he asked, "What?"

"Well, it's not all the way polished," Cari informed him, carefully removing the jewel from its bowl and holding it up in the beam of sunlight streaming through the window in front of them. "See?" She pointed to the small smears as she did so.

Corin reddened slightly. "Fine," he answered. "I'll redo it, then."

Not ten minutes later, Cari heard another _clack_ as Aravis, down the table to her left, dropped a ruby. Having just bent to retrieve her second dropped emerald, Cari reached for the ruby and rolled it into the surprised Aravis's hand. Once again, the sunlight caught a smudged facet near the top of the jewel, and once again, Cari had to point the flaw out when the younger girl reached to deposit it into her bowl of finished stones. Aravis bit her lip slightly but said nothing.

As Cari drew her hand away from the bowl, she slipped and knocked it onto the floor, spilling the gems all over the floor. Fortunately, there had been no more than twenty stones in it, but Cari's face still reddened a good deal as she apologized to Aravis. Still, this did not stop her from noticing three rubies that still had smudges on them despite the younger girl's polishing. Hesitantly, she pointed this out to Aravis, who reddened.

"Right, then," she finally managed in a pinched tone, and held out the bowl for Cari to spill the retrieved stones into.

"Oh, we have an experienced flaw detector, do we?" came Tama's voice from the doorway. All three siblings turned to face her as she eyed Cari inquiringly.

"Oh, no – not experienced, Tama," Cari replied quickly. "I – I just noticed a few smudges, that's all."

"Hmm," Corin put in then. "I don't know, Cari, you're always good at correcting me in our history lessons with Master Dorian…"

Cari shot him a withering glare, and he subsided at once.

But Tama had cocked her head thoughtfully. "If you'd like to, Princess Carisa, you are more than welcome to switch places with Glaina and check the polished jewels." She glanced over at her daughter, who was sitting at a nearby table. "Glaina, would you mind?"

The girl raised both eyebrows. "Not exactly, Mother. My eyes are beginning to go in circles." She turned to address Cari. "They're all yours if you want them, Princess Carisa."

Cari, taken aback, opened her mouth and shut it again before finally managing, "If you're sure, Glaina – and if you wouldn't mind showing me for just a little bit what you're looking for…"

The other girl waved her hand. "Of course not. Here, I'll show you."

In short order, Cari had entirely taken over Glaina's duties. She proved especially adept at picking out unpolished spots on the stones, and in practically no time at all she had filled almost half the bowl assigned to gems needing re-polishing. Many of these went back to Corin and Aravis, who were not best pleased at seeing evidence of their imperfect polishing abilities. Glaina, who assured both of them that they were actually doing quite well, eventually volunteered to take on all of the stones in Cari's bowl. This made both siblings tone down their grumbling, although Corin finally said it would be just as well if he and his older sister were to switch places.

Aravis raised an eyebrow at this. "I thought you said before that you didn't like that task, Corin."

Her brother rolled his eyes at her. "Oh, come on, Aravis. I wouldn't give either of you so many stones back!"

This elicited an eyeroll from Cari. "Corin, I gave each one back to you for a reason. Besides – " an ever-so-slightly impish grin crossed her face – "now you know how I feel when you and Cor get into fights, especially after you pick them." She raised her eyebrows pointedly, even as she bit her tongue to keep from grinning harder.

"I don't pick fights," Corin replied innocently. "I merely make observations. It's not my fault that Cor doesn't like them."

Behind Corin, Aravis made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort of barely contained laughter. Cari, unable to contain herself, burst out laughing, ignoring the comically indignant look on her brother's face.

Just before the family left the store, Tama, the store owners, and their wives presented them with the brooches for Cari and Aravis, as well as jeweled cloak fasteners for King Lune and the twins. Even though Corin had assured her that such gifts were customary every time the king and his family came for a guild meeting, Cari could not help feeling that Tama and the others had been far too generous. On their way back to the livery, she could not stop fingering the purple velvet pouch that encased her hair brooch. _It's so lovely – and goes so perfectly with the two necklaces Father gave me. I'd like to wear it every day, even though I can't._

The following day, both Cari's family and their hosts, along with Lord Aren's household servants, headed a few miles north for what Kenna informed Cari somewhat regretfully would be the last picnic of the year in the rolling hills around the castle, which farther back turned into the mountain range separating Archenland from Narnia.

"It will get cold soon here in the mountains – sooner than it will in Anvard, at any rate," she said, adding as she rubbed her belly, "and anyway, I don't think Mother or Derick would take any too well to my leaving the castle having gotten any closer than this to my date of giving birth."

Cari's extra riding lessons with Naka back at Anvard paid off well on the journey into the hills; quite apart from their crookedness, the paths the party took were studded here and there with loose stones. Fortunately, Naka had already proven herself a sure-footed mount, but Cari could still definitively feel most of the bumps. She and Kenna were both especially glad when the party reached the picnic spot, a smooth clearing that topped one of the hills. A smattering of trees covered one side; the day's gentle wind lightly stirred their tops, along with the hilltop's long grasses and red and gold autumn flowers. _It looks like a green and gold version of the sea back in Calormen on a calm day,_ Cari mused.

Soon the entire party was dining on fruit and bread piled with assortments of meats and cheeses – a meal Cari had discovered was still her favorite kind, Anvard's lavish banquets notwithstanding. _Well, except for the large cooked noodles stuffed with meats and cheese, followed by chocolate cake and ice cream. Still, I don't think I could eat that every day. These simpler foods I'll never tire of._

After the meal, most of the party, except for a few of the servants, got up to play catch and horseshoes on the broad hilltop. Cari engaged in a few disc tosses with her siblings before an errant shot from Cor bypassed her and landed squarely on the blanket where Kenna and her mother were sitting, not two feet from Kenna's knees.

Cari, who was closest to the errant disc, got to it first and was followed in short order by her profusely apologizing brother. Lady Lina, however, waved his apologies away.

"It's all right, Cor," she reassured him. "Those things happen, and if you got it all the way over here, you obviously have a very strong arm." As her nephew reddened, she added, "It runs in the family, you see. Your father and I had quite the throwing contests when we were younger to see who could fling a disc or ball the farthest."

One corner of Kenna's mouth quirked furiously. "You should go have one now, Mother. I've been telling you I'm fine here by myself. I'm not an invalid just yet, you know."

Lady Lina raised her eyebrows at her daughter; obviously, the two women had had similar discussions before. Beside her, Cor coughed uncomfortably.

"Aunt Lina," Cari said, surprised to find the words leaving her mouth, "I can stay with Kenna if you like. That is, of course, if it's all right with you, Kenna," she added quickly, turning to address her cousin.

The older girl smiled. "Oh, of course – thank you, Cari. You don't need to stay if you'd rather keep on playing, though."

Cari shook her head and handed the disc to her aunt. "No, it's all right. I'd like to see this competition between Father and Aunt Lina for myself. Besides – " here she inclined her head in the direction of the horses' neatly piled saddlebags – "I brought some – um – handiwork along, just in case it were to rain."

Kenna flashed her a grin. "Lovely." She turned to address her mother. "All right, Mother, we're ready to see the big battle."

If Cari had not seen the downright mischievous glint that shot through her aunt's eyes a split second later, she probably would not have believed it.

"Very well, then. You girls have fun," Lady Lina said, and turned away to fetch her brother. After a couple of moments, a wide-eyed Cor followed her.

"Do you need anything from the saddlebags, Kenna?" Cari asked her cousin. "Or more food, or water?"

Kenna shook her head. "No, Cari, I'm fine." She gestured to the nubby, unfinished blanket, topped by a set of several large needles, that Cari had not previously noticed on top of her belly. "I've already got my handiwork – such as it is, anyhow. Thank heavens pregnancies last nine months; this baby blanket's been driving me insane for the last five." She grinned as she said it, however.

Cari nodded and headed over to the saddlebags, where after a short search she retrieved the short length of lavender lace she had begun working on at the clothiers' shop in Archton. In short order, she was back on the blanket at her cousin's side, watching King Lune engaging in an animated discussion with Lady Lina and Lord Aren. Both girls grinned from ear to ear as the king's sister abruptly turned and flounced off toward one end of the meadow, disc in hand. Her husband turned to King Lune and shrugged before the two men followed her.

"Uncle Lune must have reminded her of one of the few times he actually beat her at disc-throwing," Kenna observed. "It's the only thing that would have set her off like that." Seeing her cousin's raised eyebrows, she quickly added, "Oh, don't worry; she's not really angry, just a bit competitive. She and Uncle Lune used to do this all the time, to hear her tell of it, and sometimes they would bet each other shillings upon shillings on the outcomes of their matches."

Cari tilted her head abruptly at this. "Shillings upon shillings?"

Kenna shrugged. "Well, not a terribly great number – just enough to make each other mad when they lost."

_Hmm. No wonder he never lets Cor and Corin bet each other money on anything like that. Come to think of it, though, I do remember him telling me at one of my knife-throwing practices that I reminded him of Aunt Lina, because she was always excellent at any sport that involved throwing objects…_

Sure enough, Lady Lina won the throwing match, although not by much. Her brother congratulated her good-naturedly as the twins and Aravis looked on with a great deal of interest.

Kenna shook her head. "I suppose she won't let him live that one down – at least not for the rest of your visit, and probably for our next visit to Anvard." She turned back to the baby blanket, now resting in her lap. "The competitiveness skipped over me entirely, I must say. Well, to be more accurate, I take after Father that way rather than Mother. Neither of us gets upset over losing a match of anything. Kenton got all of Mother's – well – determination to win."

Cari could not hold back a wide smile then. "In other words, he's very much like Corin."

Her cousin grinned back. "Oh, so you had noticed it, then?"

Cari playfully narrowed her eyes. "Oh, no. Not at all."

Kenna burst into a fit of laughter, and Cari quickly joined in. After a few moments, the older girl laughed even harder as she rubbed her belly. "Ha! He thinks it's funny, too."

Cari tilted her head, along with one eyebrow. "He does?"

Kenna's smile softened. "He's kicking up a storm. It really feels as though he _is _laughing." She tilted her head downward to address the baby. "I hope you do keep on laughing after you're born, you know, rather than crying a lot. It would make our trip back to Arch so much easier!"

"Back to Arch?" Cari's forehead wrinkled at the mention of her home province. "I thought you lived here in Kemmern."

Kenna shook her head. "No; we got here last month and will be staying until a month or two after the baby's born. Then we'll return to our home on Derick's parents' estate." She tilted her head thoughtfully before adding, "Come to think of it, we won't live so terribly far from Anvard. You may just get tired of seeing us after a while."

Cari shook her head at this. "I'm sure I won't, Kenna. I – well, I went for fourteen years without seeing any of my relatives, so technically it would make more sense for me to be tired of _not _seeing you all." Seeing the older girl's mouth quirk furiously, she added, "In any case, I love the idea of having family members live close by, and I'm sure I will also love seeing the baby when he – or she – is born."

The grin that had been straining to escape Kenna's lips finally burst forth. "Excellent, then. You're more than welcome to visit any time you like."

For much of the afternoon, the two girls watched the games around them and attended to their handiwork – the latter of which largely consisted of Kenna explaining her blanket-making techniques to Cari, as well as helping the younger girl with her lace. She quickly proved a patient and competent teacher, providing Cari with a few tips to help her make her stitches tighter and the lace more shapely. She also promised to teach her cousin how to knit the next time they saw each other.

"Although we may not have a great deal of time for it," she observed as the two girls wrapped up their work in preparation for the trip back to the castle. "Mother says babies take up every moment of their parents' waking hours – and from what I can remember of Kenton when he was a baby, she's quite right. Of course, Derick and I will have a few maids to help us out, but I can't imagine having them watch the baby for any real length of time; I'd rather have him – or her – to myself as much as I can."

On the journey back to Anvard, Cari could not help but notice that the leaves on the trees around her were beginning to look remarkably like the red, orange, and gold flowers she had seen in the hilltop meadow. Corin poked fun at her, as well as at Cor and Aravis, for staring so much at the trees; according to him, their leaves changed color and fell off every year like clockwork.

"Even if they _do _fall off before you can count every single one," he informed Cari as they passed a particularly bright splash of orange and fiery red, "they'll do it again next year, so you can come back and finish your _technically _comprehensive count again."

Cari and Aravis shot him simultaneous dirty looks. Corin returned them with an innocent grin.

The next several weeks saw the temperatures lower beyond anything Cari, Cor, or Aravis could remember experiencing, even as the woodlands around the castle transformed into a brilliant conflagration of colors such as they had never seen. _Well, I don't _remember_ seeing this sort of thing, anyway, as much as I would like to think my memory would have retained sights of colors such as Calormen doesn't have._ Meanwhile, the farmlands surrounding the castle began to offer up plentiful harvests of wheat, corn, oats, apples, and all manner of vegetables Cari had never heard of. However, upon tasting them, she discovered that many had Calormene counterparts she had simply come to know by other names.

In addition to restocking the castle's larders with the fruits of the plentiful harvest, the servants busied themselves from dawn to long after dusk preparing Anvard for the upcoming harvest festival. Even the royal siblings had some of their usual lessons cut short by King Lune, who wanted them properly prepared for their roles in the celebration. The first time the king interrupted the sword and knife lessons, Corin, who believed he would get out of the preparations since he had participated in the festival for years, wasted no time in teasing Cor, Cari, and Aravis. However, he was brought up short by his father, who pointed out that Cor, as the elder twin, would be taking over his younger brother's former role, and therefore Corin would have to learn a new one. Cor said nothing at this, but was not above snickering as they all headed for the castle.

Inside, King Lune led them on a more extensive tour of the kitchens, where each of them would be spending a good deal of time in the days immediately preceding the festival. Longstanding tradition dictated that each member of the royal family prepare and serve a dish at the feast. The reigning monarch and the crown prince – or princess, if the royal couple had no sons – always presented venison from a deer shot by the king himself. Meanwhile, it was the queen's job – now Cari's, as her father informed her – to bake and serve bread she had made from grain she had helped to harvest herself from the huge farm just to the west of the castle. The family's next oldest son would milk one of the farm's cows and prepare cheese from it; when Cor heard this, he burst out laughing and immediately began posing all manner of cow-milking scenarios gone wrong that would result in Corin getting injured or embarrassed. Cari and Aravis looked at each other and rolled their eyes, and by the third or fourth time Corin threatened to knock his brother down, even King Lune's patience was exhausted.

"Corin, Cor," he said sternly, rounding on both boys, who froze in their tracks, "if you are so eager to see each other perform your festival duties, you may begin now. I am sure the good men and women of the kitchens would be only too happy to see you begin assisting them now, rather than later."

That shut both twins up, and Corin miraculously kept silent as his father showed Aravis where she would be cutting the apples used in her dish, which he referred to as "applesauce." _Well, I'm sure I've never eaten that before. Still, if it's made of apples, it must be good._

And good it was indeed, as Cari discovered the following week, when her father took them all to the castle orchards and had them pick apples, then haul them to the castle kitchens to help the servants prepare the dish. Cari cut two of her fingers while peeling the apples, and she burned another on the rim of the pot containing the boiling apples she was stirring, but she deemed the finished product more than worth her injuries. The ground cinnamon reminded her of the spicy flavors of her favorite Calormene foods, while the mashed apples' sweet simplicity sang of her northern home with every bite. _I could almost eat this every day for the rest of my life._

The week after that, King Lune informed his children and Aravis that he would be taking them in a few days to visit Queen Cara's grave, which was located in the graveyard on the other side of the enormous wooded hill immediately behind the castle. It was the king's custom to visit the grave on the twenty-ninth day of the tenth month every year – the anniversary both of the queen's birth and of her death. According to the king, the trip would take much of the day, so they would have no lessons. It was the only situation in which Cari could imagine Cor and Corin, whose feelings about their schooling ranged on any given day from cordial dislike to outright hatred, not rejoicing at this prospect. For Cari, who loved her education above almost all else, the day promised to be doubly depressing. However, she could not deny the anticipation she felt the evening before the trip as she sat cross-legged on the floor next to her parents' wedding tapestry.

_How many times have I told you how much I wish I could have met you before I lost you, Mother? _she murmured inwardly as she rested her chin on her propped-up, fisted hands. One side of her closed mouth quirked in morbid amusement, and the other in unmitigated sorrow, almost simultaneously as she sighed. _I wish I could have asked you for advice on so many things – how to improve at dancing, for one. Somehow, you got from stepping on Father's toes twice when you first met him to dancing flawlessly at your wedding. Even though I'm not planning on having a wedding – not any time soon, at the very least – I could still stand to improve the way you did. And you probably would have been more knowledgeable than Father about protocol and manners and how to handle suitors like those men at the Midsummer festival. And by handle, I mean something other than mumbling and stumbling till Father rescues me. I'm sure Aravis would have handled it much better. _She sighed again. _But then again, she _was _raised as a Tarkheena. You would have liked her, I'm sure – you wouldn't have had to give her nearly as much instruction in court manners as you would have had to give me. But in any case, I'm sure you would have welcomed her just as warmly as Father has; that much I gather from hearing about you. Of course, you probably would have said the same thing Father did had I told you what I told him about hoping I hadn't made him ashamed of me. Mara is always saying you were the type of person who would calm nervous servants who made mistakes in front of you. I suppose you would have done the same for your nervous daughter – although I have to wonder if you wouldn't have gotten a bit tired of my talent for going slightly crazy every time I do something wrong – not to mention my even greater talent for doing those things in the first place._ She tilted her head thoughtfully. _I suppose you passed a bit of that off to Cor. He's always telling me not to worry or scold myself so much. He can even handle Corin – well, mostly. I don't think anybody can completely handle Corin – not even Father. _One corner of her mouth twitched halfway upward. _Although you could, to hear Mara and Treya tell of it. And the only time he ever treats anything seriously is when somebody mentions you. I can tell then that Mara is right – he truly loved you. But then, according to her, everybody did._

Cari stayed up for hours in her room that night before rising at the crack of dawn to dress in riding clothes and eat a hurried breakfast with her father and siblings. She spent much of the meal yawning and blinking her eyes so as to keep them open, and the entire family was in the stable and mounting the horses when she suddenly remembered the one thing she had reminded herself the previous night not to forget.

"Oh, blast it!" she exclaimed aloud in spite of herself, drawing looks from her father and siblings alike. She turned sheepishly to her father. "Father, I'm really sorry, but I forgot – um – something back in my room." Her cheeks colored as she said it, and the color darkened as she saw Corin roll his eyes.

Her father tilted his head sharply. "You remember exactly where you left it?"

Cari nodded, and her father returned the gesture. "All right, then." _Go quickly, _his eyes added, although she hardly needed him to repeat it aloud. She had sprung off of Naka before her father had finished his sentence, and had fled up the stairs and through the halls to her room and back in under five minutes. Flushed, she awkwardly mounted her horse, and the party immediately set out for the wide and winding road that swept out of Anvard's front gate and around the hill behind the castle.

The journey took just over an hour. The entire party spent it in complete silence, save for the occasional hushed command to a horse and several yawns, most of which came from Corin. Cari was mildly surprised to find that much of her own early-morning fatigue had passed, giving way to a contemplative unawareness of her surroundings. Her mind was focused almost entirely on two things: anticipating what her mother's grave would look like, and reflecting on the many questions she still had for her mother – no matter how many she thought of, especially while sitting in front of the tapestry, new ones never ceased to pop up. Her eyes, she supposed, took in the autumn seas of trees and grasses around her, but her mind, if it bothered at all, only registered them as swathes of brown.

Finally the road, after a slight, gradual descent around the hill, began to slope upwards. Naka, keeping pace with the other horses, slowed noticeably, and for the first time since they had left the stables, Cari looked up and noticed her surroundings. They had passed the other side of the great hill behind Anvard and were climbing a much slighter, less wooded rise. It was crowned with a circlet of the now-familiar solid, red-brown brick Cari had become accustomed to seeing every day. Set into the wall off to her right, she noticed an ancient set of gates woven from the same indestructible black iron that decorated the castle's doors. Leading up to them ran a rutted, deep-brown track that branched off the main road not far, Cari suddenly realized, from where her father's stallion, along with two of the guards' horses, now trotted at the head of the party.

However, her father led the party not up the narrow trail, but farther along the road around to the back of the fenced hill, where the ground sank slightly and broadened into a series of fields bordered by more woodlands. The ground, laden as it was with autumn flowers and still-green grasses slowly fading to a dirty golden brown, seemed a natural extension of the surrounding trees' brilliant foliage.

At a sign from the king, the party stopped and dismounted. The four royal guards accompanying the party silently took the horses' reins, and Cari, Cor, and Aravis hastened to follow Corin and King Lune into the nearest field. After wading for several paces through the knee- to waist-high grasses, the king stopped and turned to address his children and Aravis.

"Here is where the best flowers are usually to be found," he said in a voice so uncharacteristically subdued that Cari had to strain to hear him over the brisk autumn breeze. "I shall call upon you when half an hour has ended. Please attend that you do not leave the range of my voice – or at any rate one of your siblings' or the guards'." His gaze wandered to Corin as he spoke the latter sentence, though it lacked nearly all of his customary gusto and good humor.

Cari, however, saw no need to go more than a couple dozen paces beyond her father. As he had told her the previous day, the field was chock-full of flowers in nearly every shade even the vibrantly multi-hued trees could boast. Cari quickly saw that he had also been right about their size and quality. _No wonder he and Corin always come here to pick the flowers for Mother's grave. I've never seen such enormous, soft…subdued but still so _enchanting_ flowers before. They're more soothing than the ones I saw in Tashbaan._

Eventually, Cari pulled herself out of her musings enough to concentrate on choosing an arrangement of flowers for her mother's grave. She decided to pluck one blossom in the deepest shade of burgundy she could find, then one in a lighter shade of red, and so forth until the resulting bouquet formed a gradual progression from maroon to light yellow. She was still at deep gold when her father called, but managed to pick the few remaining flowers she needed as she made her way back to her family. Before she mounted Naka, she reached into her small saddlebag and pulled out a length of twine, which she wound around the blooms before sticking them carefully into the bag, which she left open so as not to crush anything on the journey to the graveyard.

Slowly, the horses picked their way back to the shallow, encircled hill, then up the winding trail to the wall and its gates. Even Corin had apparently lost his appetite for yawning in favor of ensuring his mount's footing. However, they soon reached the gap in the wall without any trouble, and for the first time Cari saw the two guards who had apparently been hiding in the surrounding shrubbery until then. King Lune nodded to them, then dismounted and withdrew from inside his tunic three black iron keys that nicely matched the gates themselves and inserted them one by one into the right-hand gate's three keyholes. He leaned his heavy frame against the gate, which swung open with a surprising lack of noise, and entered the large enclosure inside, holding the gate open as the entire party passed through.

Once inside, everybody dismounted, and two more guards, along with the two who had accompanied the family, took their horses' reins once everybody had retrieved the flowers from the saddlebags. Corin nudged his way to his father's side, and together they led the others in a silent procession among the rows and rows of stone slabs – white, gray, brown, tan, and every shade in between – that protruded from the ground in sedate, even spacings. Cari and Cor, whose sole experience with burial grounds (other than the tombs outside Tashbaan, that is) had come in the form of a few funeral services held on a sandy stretch on one side of the Calormene village – marked only here and there by dry sticks of seaside shrubbery, with nary a rock in sight – stared openly at the sight before them and had to be nudged a few times by Aravis and Cor in order to keep going.

Finally, as King Lune approached the back of the enclosure, he bypassed two rows of broad marble slabs that jutted a bit higher up from the ground than did the others. He proceeded to the middle of a third row, which ended abruptly not even halfway across the length of the others, and halted in front of the last stone, which Cari thought might be a bit newer than the others in the fleeting moment before the realization hit her. _It's Mother's._

Sure enough, King Lune sank slowly to his knees a few feet in front of the stone. Peering around Cor's shoulder, Cari was able to make out the inscription, carved in a bold, rounded script, that covered the entire right half of the top:

**HERE LIES CARA, 42****ND**** QUEEN CONSORT OF ARCHENLAND**

**BORN LADY CARA OF LOHM**

**10 M. 29 D. IN THE YEAR 966 SINCE ASLAN CREATED THE WORLD**

**MARRIED LUNE, 32****ND**** KING OF ARCHENLAND**

**5 M. 12 D. IN THE YEAR 990**

**ENTERED ASLAN'S COUNTRY 10 M. 29 D. IN THE YEAR 1005**

**FAITHFUL DAUGHTER, WIFE, MOTHER, AND QUEEN**

"**BELOVED WITH THE FIRE OF ALL THE STARS ASLAN MADE"**

The middle part of the inscription wound around a graceful etching of a woman's face. Cari immediately recognized it as an older and less detailed version of the beaming young woman in her parents' wedding tapestry. Instead of a veil over her long brown hair, however, this woman wore a lovely swirled crown atop her gracefully upswept hair.

So engrossed was Cari in reading the inscription and looking at her mother's picture that she barely noticed the twins and Aravis scatter to the three sides of the slab opposite King Lune's, as he had instructed them to do the previous day. Cari settled for the corner between the twins, since Cor was sitting in the middle of his side and Corin curled up on the opposite end of his. Both of them – as well, Cari noticed, as Aravis on the fourth side – stayed at respectful distances from the stone; King Lune had told them that approaching a gravestone too closely was considered nearly as bad as standing on it. Cari had wondered for a few fleeting moments if Aslan would strike dead anyone who did get too close – the same punishment that Tash had been said to inflict for similar offenses in Calormen – before reminding herself that this might very well be yet another situation in which northern customs differed from Calormene ones. _And after all, Aslan didn't strike Aravis dead, or eat her, when she caused her servant's beating. He did scratch her, but still…He _could _have killed her, but He didn't. And then, of course – well, if I can believe the Narnian monarchs – rather than inflict the same type of punishment on Edmund for committing one of the worst crimes imaginable, He died Himself instead. In fact, I've never heard a story of Him striking anybody dead for anything other than openly fighting against Him, like in the desert battle at the end of the Age of Fire. And in any case, if He does strike people dead for overstepping the grave boundaries, I'm sure Father would have mentioned it._

Still, Cari made sure to keep even farther from her mother's gravestone than her brothers, just to be on the safe side. She slowly sank into a sitting position, keeping in mind Mistress Morenna's instructions about how a proper court lady should seat herself. However, once she settled into position and focused once again on the stone and its engraving, all thoughts of protocol left her mind as sudden, unprompted tears sprang into her eyes.

_Hello again, Mother,_ she whispered in her mind as she gazed at her mother's etched portrait, which her eyes would not leave. _Mara was right again, as usual – you were as beautiful at the end of your life as you were on your wedding day. Of course, she did say that she meant it primarily about your character and secondarily about your looks, but I believe her on both counts. _She sighed in time with the wind, which was picking up and in any case more noticeable on the top of the hill than it had been on the tree-surrounded road. _I suppose you would have loved to be aboveground today. Father says that autumn was your favorite season and that you especially loved the colors of the leaves, grasses, and flowers – although lavender was always your favorite color of all. _She glanced down at her flowers, which, now removed from their original surroundings, looked a good deal less impressive than they originally had. _I'm sorry, Mother. I wish I had been able to pick more of them, instead of obsessing over the exact shade of each one. But I really wanted to make sure they looked beautiful together for you. _She sighed again. _I suppose you can't really see them, but still – you know what I mean, don't you? _Her mouth quirked as she tilted her head. _At least, I don't _think _you can see this far from Aslan's country; I never did ask anybody about that. And that's assuming Aslan's country actually exists. I wish I could remember you telling me about it when I was little; Father says you did. _She drew up her knees then and shifted her head to rest atop them. _I wish I could remember anything about you at all. I just don't seem to be able to, and I've spent so much time trying! _The tears burned anew in her eyes, and two squeezed out of the corners of her eyes to run unwiped down her cheeks. _I feel like a bad daughter. Of course Cor wouldn't remember you; he was only a little baby when we were kidnapped. But I was four years old, and I can remember Father – if only a very vague image of him – and I certainly remember the kidnapping. Why can't I remember anything about you? I've sat in front of the tapestry so many times, thinking it would jog my memory, and it hasn't. _She tilted her head and pushed her forehead against her knees in frustration. _Are you disappointed in me for that – that is, if you know that I'm here and can't remember you? I think maybe you might understand that I've tried – from all I've heard about you, it seems as though you would. But I wish you were still here so that I could have asked you that question face-to-face._ She raised her chin to rest on her knees again. _I wonder if you wish you were here, too. Father has said a good few times that you always believed Cor and I were alive, and that you were always convinced you'd be reunited with us some day. _Two more tears left her eyes. _Do you wish it had happened as badly as I do? Wherever you are now, do you wish you were here instead? Father says Aslan's country is the most glorious place in this world or outside of it, but if you're there, do you ever think, even for a moment, that you might like to come back here – or that you wouldn't have minded staying here longer and going there later, since you supposedly live forever once you get there?_

Two more tears squeezed out, and Cari unbent her knees, clenching her fists against the ground to support herself. _And what if Aslan's country isn't real, after all? What if you – all the parts of you – really are dead and gone, and you can't hear me, or wish you were here with us, or think or feel anything at all? What if I really won't ever see you, whether in memory or after I die? _Almost unconsciously, she beat her still-clenched fists against the ground, biting her tongue at the same time to restrain a sob of frustration.

_And even if Aslan's country does exist, technically I might never see you again, anyway. A fat chance I have of getting there after I die, if only wonderfully good people such as yourself end up there. And Aslan scares me – although that might not matter so much, if only I could see you._

So lost was Cari in her ruminations that she very nearly jumped straight to her feet when her father's gentle tap on her shoulder signaled that it was time for them to leave. After a hurried minute behind the gravestone, she followed him around the corner to the front, where her siblings had just finished laying their bouquets next to its border (King Lune had assured them that this did not transgress the distance protocols). Keeping her feet firmly planted well over two feet from the stone, she reverently placed her flowers at the end of the row her siblings had formed with theirs. Her father, whom she noticed for the first time had far more tears remaining on his cheeks than she had shed, nodded to Corin, who turned and led his siblings in the direction of the gate. When they reached it, Cari looked back and saw the king's form still bent over the flowers.

Several minutes later, he joined them, his face now red from having shed further tears. Silently, they all mounted their horses, and the guards opened the gates to allow them passage onto the trail that led to the road at the bottom of the hill. As Naka passed through the gate, Cari glanced back one last time toward the stone and the flowers she could barely see.

Wrapped around the bouquet Cari had laid in front of her mother's grave was the length of lavender lace she had begun under Taira's direction in Archton and stayed up nearly the entire previous night to finish.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE, PART 2: If you feel so led, please feel free to submit a review – even if it's just to castigate me for taking a whole month to post a chapter. And, as always, thank you for reading!**


	29. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, I'm back, and no, I haven't fallen off the face of the earth – at least, not yet. Various factors in my offline life have tried pretty hard to make that happen over the past several months, though.**

**That said, I still should have gotten this chapter up **_**much**_** sooner, and I feel like a bit of a failure as a writer for not having done so. I am so sorry for the long, long, long-overdue update, and I hope that there are still a few of you out there who haven't yet given up on this story and can forgive its author for some of her many faults.**

**And so, without further ado…**

They returned in short order to the meadow where they had picked the flowers and ate a quiet picnic under one of the outlying trees. Corin seemed particularly subdued; he had his head bent down most of the time, and only looked up occasionally to ask one of his siblings to pass him one of the food baskets.

The wind had picked up even further since they had left the graveyard. When a particularly keen gust whipped across the meadow, Cari could very nearly feel as well as hear the branches above her groaning, and she looked up in alarm.

"Don't worry about the tree, my daughter," King Lune reassured her, causing her to jerk her head back down in surprise at hearing him speak in a steadier voice than he had been able to manage all day. "It is stronger than you may think, and its roots go deep." He hesitated for a few moments before clearing his throat and adding quietly, "Which is one of the reasons it was C – your mother's favorite."

Cari cocked her head questioningly for a moment before she remembered what he had told her the day before. _Right. He did say that we'd be eating underneath Mother's favorite tree after visiting her grave. That's the tree they ate under so many times when they were younger, and then after they had me, and then later with Corin after Cor and I were kidnapped. I must have had quite a few picnic lunches under this tree as a little girl. I wish I could remember even a sliver of just one of them._

But after spending the remainder of the meal – as well as the chilly ride home, made all the more uncomfortable by the now-biting autumn wind – ruminating in silence, Cari found herself as unable as ever to produce any such memories. She barely spoke to anybody for the rest of the day – even at supper, where her father's spirits had improved somewhat and he proved more amenable to conversing with his children and Aravis. He also reminded them that, in honor of her birthday, they were eating their mother's favorite foods, which always cheered her up – "but she would be very much happier simply to see all of us together here at this table. I should say, actually, that she _is _very much happier – for, make no mistake, she does see us here from Aslan's country, and is glad of it, and would not wish us to end the day grieving as though we will never see her again."

_But what if I never do?_ Cari's graveside thoughts returned with a vengeance, and she had to blink hard in order to prevent her suddenly-gathered tears from spilling over onto her cheeks at the dinner table.

Cari spent a good deal of time that evening in front of her parents' tapestry in the hallway. She did not even raise her head, which was situated comfortably situated atop her drawn-up knees, when she heard Cor first approach and then sit down a few feet away from her.

"I wish I could remember her for you," she offered after many minutes had passed between them in silence. "I could only ever remember a glimpse of Father, though, and no more. Even then, I thought it was just a part of my strange dreams that were really my memories of the night Ar – the night we got to Calormen." She sighed, in part to even out her shaky breathing, before continuing. "And later on, when I found out from Hashim and Ruhandi that – that we weren't being raised by our real father, I wanted to tell you that we must have a real mother and father somewhere in the north, or at least we did at one time, but I didn't want you to blurt it out in front – well, in a way that would get you beaten, because you were only about five or six, so I didn't say anything. So I never told you about my memory of Father – although it was more like a flash of him in my mind. I didn't remember him speaking or moving, just standing there laughing. But I never remembered anything about Mother." She finally swiveled her head, which had remained perched on her knees, and looked him straight in the eyes for the first time, although the image of his face was blurred by her unshed tears. "I'm sorry, Cor." She opened her mouth to say something else, but, realizing that she had no idea what that would be, and that whatever it was would not help matters, shut it again. _Why did I just tell him I withheld all that for years? And _how_? I didn't even mean to say that. What if he gets upset with me? I can't fight with him, not today. I think Mother would especially hate to see us arguing today, of all days._

But Cor, his own head resting on his knees, merely shrugged one of his shoulders a couple of times before speaking. When he did open his mouth, his voice was as uneven as his sister's had been a few moments before.

"It's not your fault what you can and can't remember, Cari," he finally said. "And I always knew Ar – he didn't seem like a real father, so I wasn't really surprised when I heard him talking with those Tarkaans the night we left." One corner of his mouth tipped upward slightly. "I appreciate not getting another beating, though. It was back in my younger, foolish days, so I might have said something if you'd told me and all." The teasing light in his eyes was a bit dimmer than usual, but Cari nearly grinned in relief nonetheless, and the noise that involuntarily escaped her throat sounded oddly like a gulping giggle. Cor raised his left eyebrow, and his mouth twisted, but he said nothing for several moments.

"What was Father laughing about, though?" he asked quietly at length. Seeing Cari's confusion, he clarified, "In your memory, I mean."

"Oh." Cari raised her head from its perch on her knees. "I don't remember, honestly. I've tried to, but it's an odd memory – I mean, it starts in the middle of the laugh, not at the beginning, and it leaves off before he finishes laughing."

Cor cocked his head. "Huh. That is odd." He paused a moment before adding, "What did he look like?"

"A lot like now," answered his sister. "Almost exactly the same, actually, except that he had more hair, and it was – well, blonder. And he was – he was a bit thinner. But he laughed just like he does now."

"Who's laughing?" Both siblings jerked their heads around at the sound of Corin's voice, especially since it, like his face, was noticeably more subdued than usual. Aravis was right behind him.

"Father," answered Cor, at the same time Cari said, "Nobody." They shot each other a pair of odd looks before Cari turned back to Corin and Aravis and explained, "I – we mean, nobody's laughing _now_. We were just talking about how I remembered Father when I was a little girl growing up in Calormen."

"You remembered him?" Corin finally managed, obviously thrown for a loop.

"Not very much," Cari answered. "I just have one memory of him, actually, and he was just standing and laughing. That's why we were talking about laughing."

"Oh. Right," Corin replied, then briefly glanced back at Aravis, who was still standing well away from the three siblings and carrying herself more stiffly than Cari could remember her doing since the journey out of Calormen.

"Did you remember Mother at all, then?" Corin asked after several awkward moments.

As Cari shook her head in reply, she suddenly realized how drained she felt. "No," she answered quietly.

Corin looked as though he expected her to say more, but when she did not, he offered his usual brief, sharp shrug – which, Cari had noticed not long after she had arrived in Archenland, was very different from his brother's more deliberate ones.

"She remembered a lot about you," he finally offered unexpectedly, drawing looks of surprise from Cari and Cor. "Well, both of you, actually – just more about Cari – " here he nodded toward his sister – "because you were older when you got taken. She told a lot of stories about you when you were little." He paused before adding, "And she told me I'd see you both some day. And – " Cari saw the first tiny hint of a smile cross his face that day – "she made me promise I'd try to be nice about showing you everything once you got here."

Cor rolled his eyes at his brother, but Cari managed to produce a little half-smile of her own. "I'm sure she's pleased with you, Corin," she said. "After all, you were very helpful about showing us around." _After all, I suppose you always could have found a way to act even more annoyingly than you already do._

Corin clearly did not know how to reply to this, so he shrugged again. "Maybe," he finally managed, then lowered his head.

_He's probably as tired as I am,_ Cari realized. _Maybe even more so. After all, he knew her, and neither Cor nor I did. And of course he's not accustomed to grieving for her with so many other people around._

She rose slowly, using the wall for support, and looked pointedly at Cor. "I suppose we should go, Cor," she said. "We can't hog Mother and Father's portrait forever, and we've all got to be up in the kitchens extra early tomorrow."

Cor briefly frowned at her, but after she sharpened her glance, he rose and touched the bottom of the portrait, as was both his and Cari's wont when they left it for the night.

"Good night, Mum," he murmured, then turned and headed off toward his apartments without another word.

Cari, her back turned toward Aravis and Corin, bit her lip and gazed at her mother's face through the day's seemingly ever-present tears. _Good night, Mother,_ she murmured silently. Turning, she bade her remaining brother a good evening and stepped past him. "Good night, Aravis," she said, nodding toward the younger girl on her way to her rooms.

"Oh, it's all right, Cari," Aravis replied quickly. "I was just about to retire myself." She turned to Corin and wished him a good night, which the boy barely acknowledged, before following Cari to their chambers.

"I am really sorry about your mother, Cari," she finally offered after an awkwardly silent journey up the stairs, through the halls, and past Soren and Theodore. "It is always a – a horrible sorrow to lose a mother." Her voice fell very low at the end, and Cari heard the slightest hint of a quaver in it.

Cari turned her head sharply at this. _How could I have forgotten? Aravis lost her own mother when she was just ten years old – the same age Cor and Corin were when Mother died. She must still miss her very much – perhaps even more than I've had the chance to miss Mother._

"You're right, Aravis," she finally managed. "It is a sorrow."

The silence stretched out long and awkward between the two girls, who by then had unconsciously seated themselves on two of the room's floral couches.

Finally, Cari could take the silence no more. "I am glad that you always had your father, though," she finally said. _And your real father, to boot, instead of a man like Arsheesh._

The bitter half-snort in Aravis's laugh snapped Cari out of her own thoughts at once. "When he was around, yes," she answered. "He was nearly always out to battle, or on some form of business with one or more of the other Tarkaans. Usually, it was just Mother and my brothers and me." Her voice maintained its characteristically even keel, but Cari understood the tilt of the younger girl's jaw too well to be fooled. "I do not mean to speak ungratefully about him, of course; as a Tarkaan, he had many demands on his time, and of course he was a devoted servant of the Tisroc. And when he was around, he took a great interest in – in making sure we were excelling in all the things our tutors taught us." She paused for a few moments, and Cari could not quite tell if she was grimacing or merely wondering what to say next. "However – " her voice caught ever so slightly on the word – "we did not see him much, especially after Mother died. My youngest brother and I saw him perhaps seven or eight times following his second marriage." Her jaw tightened even harder on the last word.

Cari was speechless. _I wish I could have seen Arsheesh that little,_ she thought cynically before forcing her mind back to the situation at hand. _Cari, don't be so selfish. You might try to sympathize with Aravis a bit more. You, after all, know nothing of what it felt like for her to love her father and wish to see him more often – especially since she was also saddled with a stepmother who hated her. _

"You really are lucky to see your father so often," Aravis said after a moment, "especially since he takes such a great interest in seeing you and – encouraging all of your interests, and complimenting you on your progress no matter what it is."

Cari frowned ever so slightly. "Well, yes, he does. But he does those things for all of us, not just for me."

"Oh, of course," Aravis replied quickly, and Cari could have sworn her cheeks had grown a very tiny bit pinker. "I do not wish to sound ungrateful. On the contrary, I am very thankful that he has provided for me and encouraged me in my education so generously, especially given – that he was not required by any law or custom to ask me to stay here." She paused, and Cari could almost hear her weighing her next words. "I heard him telling Chancellor Velmont the other day how happy he was that you had taken up knife-throwing with Master Ordell. He said you had obviously inherited his sister's talent." Seeing Cari's eyebrows shoot up, she continued, "And he said you had also inherited your mother's brains."

Cari, torn between smiling and staring incredulously, managed to produce an awkward grimace. "He told Chancellor Velmont I'm intelligent?" _Oh, bother. That came out all wrong. It sounded as though I assumed Father would tell his own chancellor I'm an idiot, and Aravis knows I'm not stupid enough to think he'd do that. _"I mean, he told him I was intelligent the way Mother was?"

Aravis nodded. "Well, yes. You have already gone through nearly two years' schooling in a few months, after all. None of the rest of us has done nearly as much."

Cari shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, you and Corin were further along to begin with, and Cor's gone through nearly as much as I have. I'm not so smart as all that."

Aravis shrugged back, and Cari could sense the eyeroll she was barely holding back. "He thinks a great deal of you, in any case." After a moment, she added, "I suppose we are all very fortunate to have ended up here with him."

Cari nodded. "Yes." _If I keep up this conversation for even a few more minutes, my head will start spinning all the way around._ She rose slowly from the couch. "Good night, Aravis."

The younger girl followed her lead. "Good night, Cari."

Fortunately, Mara and Maria sensed Cari's mood when she entered her bedroom, and neither said much as they quickly prepared her for bed. As soon as the door had closed behind them, Cari let out the breath she had not realized she had been holding.

_So much for "If I keep up this conversation, my head will spin." It's spinning anyway. All this time I've been jealous of the attention Father's shown to Aravis, and now I discover she thinks it's the other way around! I wish I'd heard him say all that to Chancellor Velmont about me, though._

_Yes, and did it ever occur to you that she might wish the same about hearing the compliments he pays her when she isn't there, which you are so quick to notice? Did you ever stop to think that she might be feeling like as much of an outcast here as you did at times in Calormen? And can you fault Father, either, for his kindness to her on that account – especially now that you know her father was hardly ever around to protect her from her stepmother's dislike? And wouldn't Mother, whose memory you're supposed to be honoring, have approved of it and urged you to follow suit had she been alive, from all you've heard people say of her?_

Cari sighed as she turned over in bed. _I'm sorry, Mother. _Her eyes watered again, and this time, uninhibited by the presence of others, the tears began streaming down her cheeks in two slow but steady streams. _Oh, how I wish you were still here._

The following weeks blended into a blur of classes and time at the castle's farm, which superseded the siblings' dancing and combat lessons. Both twins were thrilled about skipping the former, but ended each day with copious complaints about how much they would rather have spent their hours sword-fighting than being shown how to cut and dress meat or milk cows. Cor, who left the farm every day with cuts on his hands, had at least had his father's assistance – much to the chagrin of his twin brother, who ended up sporting several bruises courtesy of the farm's cows, as well as cuts from slicing cheese. Even Aravis had not escaped her apprenticeship unscathed; hours of cutting and boiling apples had left her hands both cut and burned in several places. However, none of them could argue with the fact that Cari had suffered the most injuries. Her body was studded with bruises from the errant flails she had used for threshing the grain, as well as from multiple collisions with barrels in the winnowing barns and the farm's grist mill; also, she woke up every day with throbbing in her strained muscles due to the days she had spent bundling and lifting grain. Furthermore, she had several scrapes on her hands and arms after tripping both in the fields and on the floors of the mill and barns.

_One would think I wouldn't be hurting so badly, after all the years I spent scrubbing floors and hauling and cooking fish back in Calormen, _she groaned to herself one afternoon, pounding her fist against the aching small of her back. _Not to mention that one person simply shouldn't be allowed to trip this many times in a day._

"Trying to get the bugs off your dress again, Cari?" Corin's voice rang out directly behind his startled sister, who whirled around so quickly that she almost tripped again. When she regained her balance, she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Yes, Corin; as a matter of fact, I am," she finally retorted, "so they'll jump over to you and crawl into all of your new cuts."

Her brother rolled his eyes right back at her. "Hey, I don't have _that _many new cuts." He quickly perused her arms – her rolled-up sleeves had bared them slightly above the elbows – and Cari could see that he noticed the numerous cuts and bruises she had incurred just that day. "Not as many as you, anyhow. Besides, I think the bugs like your cuts better."

Cari, on the verge of sticking her tongue out at him, bit it at the last minute in favor of a long, frustrated sigh. _I am not going to let him bait me into acting as though I'm eight instead of eighteen again. I'm too tired, and it's simply not worth it._

Corin opened his mouth again – to tease her further, Cari assumed – but he was interrupted by Cor and Aravis, who were fast approaching them and in the midst of an argument. Cari wearily set them straight for the third time on which king of Archenland had established the traditional Hunt of the Harvest Stag, hoping to buy a period of peace and quiet on the way back to the castle. Unfortunately, it lasted only two minutes or so into the ride, when Corin began needling his twin about the latter's fresh round of bruises, loudly proposing that the twin with the most injuries on the morning of the harvest feast should have to do all of his brother's preparation work in the kitchens, as well as his own. Aravis rolled her eyes pointedly at this, which earned her a retort from Cor to the effect that she had so few injuries, she should be able to handle both twins' jobs. Before she could reply, Corin felt compelled to point out his brother's utter lack of logic, and that the sun must have scrambled his brains.

Cari sighed and resisted the temptation to fall forward onto Naka's neck and cover her ears. _So much for my decision not to act eight years old. My siblings have that covered more than adequately._

The day before the festival, Lady Lara, the king's eldest sister, arrived with her husband, Lord Dorn, and their youngest and only unmarried child, fifteen-year-old Danielle. Cari, who had only met the three of them briefly at her welcome feast, was delighted to see them again, and, if the strength of her cousin's hug of greeting was any indication, the feeling was mutual.

_Although,_ she mused later, watching from her window as the twins, Aravis, and Danielle played dodge-the-ball against the far wall of the northeastern courtyard, _I doubt she gives restrained, gentle hugs at all._

Just at that moment, Corin let out a yelp as one of his cousin's shots hit him squarely in the leg. _No, probably not. She and Queen Lucy would get along splendidly._

"So, Cari," her aunt remarked when she returned downstairs to the solar, "you must be looking forward to tomorrow's feast. I hear that you will be serving the bread?"

Cari nodded quickly. "Yes," she replied. "I am looking forward to it – provided I do everything properly. I will try very hard, of course." _And still probably make several mistakes, even though I've studied the copy I made from Master Dorian's book at least a hundred times. Oh, well._

Lady Lara smiled warmly. "I am sure you will do very well, Cari." After a moment, she added, "And if you should mistake yourself, merely keeping on can be the best thing. The words have been said and the dishes served with errors before, if my memory serves correctly, and it will not be a catastrophe should another mistake or two happen again." Her eyes briefly darted to King Lune, who grinned.

"True enough," he conceded. "Although, if _my _memory serves correctly, Lina and I were the chief culprits in our own family when we were young. Lara was the one who always managed to carry off her service perfectly." His eyes took on a reminiscent gleam as he added, "As a matter of fact, Lara always knew our words just as well as she did her own. I would not be surprised, in fact, if she still remembers them all."

Lady Lara raised one eyebrow a fraction of an inch. "Not all of them, Lune. It has been over thirty years, after all." She tilted her head for a moment. "Although I could probably perform the applesauce portion again, if I had to, and possibly your half of the meat service." She added more quietly, "And, of course, the bread portion; it always was my favorite."

_Oh, right,_ Cari realized after a few moments. _Her mother – my grandmother – would have performed that task._

"And you've had _recent _practice at it," the king added after a short pause. Seeing Cari's confusion, he told her, "Your two aunts have graciously taken it in turns for the past few years to serve the bread at the feast. This year it was to be your Aunt Lara's turn, but she and your uncle have decided to come and cause havoc anyway, even without the excuse."

Lord Dorn burst out laughing heartily at this. "Rather say that her uncle and cousin have come to cause the havoc, Lune. Lara's always been the one to put it to rights afterwards."

Lady Lara couldn't help but offer a small smile at this. _Hm. A bit like me with Cor, Corin, and Aravis, I suppose. Except that I don't even try to restrain them most of the time any more. They're just too impossible._

"Well, there you go, Cari," said the king. "Should you forget any of your words – although I doubt that you will – your aunt can supply them to you, as she will be sitting with us at the head table tomorrow."

Cari reddened slightly. "I'll try to make sure that's not necessary, Father. I was going to spend part of tonight practicing, anyway."

"Ah, so you two can practice together, then," broke in Lord Dorn in his booming voice. "That way, your aunt will not be bored by my discussions on hunting with your father."

His wife shot him an indecipherable glance that might have been teasing disapproval or gratefulness for releasing her from a long-accustomed boredom. She then turned to her niece. "Is that all right with you, Cari?"

"Oh." Cari blinked as her focus returned from observing her uncle and aunt's interactions. "Of course, Aunt Lara."

To Cari's surprise, her aunt led her outside to the same terrace King Lune had used for Cari and Cor's welcome feast upon their arrival in Archenland, which was where the harvest feast would be held the following day. "It always helps to practice in the actual setting itself," Lady Lara told her niece, and Cari agreed with her. _I never would have thought to practice out here on my own, though._

Lady Lara proved a keen observer of Cari's words and actions. She did not offer much feedback except for a few corrections and a suggestion here or there, such as, "You might want to hold the platter a bit higher," or, "Your father's meat dish will take up a good deal of room, so you'll want to step a bit farther over to your left to compensate so you can set your platter down straight in front of you."

By the time they were finished, Cari felt far more prepared than she had previously, although still nervous. Lady Lara had offered very little praise to accompany her advice, and Cari worried that she might be thinking her niece's performance would be far inferior to her own. _But if I'd been doing anything horribly wrong, I'm sure she would have told me. She didn't hesitate to point out everything else I was making mistakes at._

The morning of the harvest festival dawned clear and cool, much to the delight of the four siblings, whose assignments in the castle kitchens more than compensated for the lack of warmth outdoors. Cari, who spent the majority of the hours between dawn and noon baking bread in front of the ovens' blistering heat, was particularly glad.

_I'm sure Aravis is just as happy as I am, though,_ she mused as she pulled yet another tray of loaves out of the oven. _After all, she has to stand in front of boiling kettles of applesauce all morning. At least I get breaks to mix the different spices and cheeses into the bread dough, even if I still do have trouble remembering which ones go together. I never knew there were so many different kinds of bread before. I didn't even know one could bake cheeses into bread!_

Not long before noon, King Lune rounded up the siblings and led them back to their quarters, where they changed into their feasting clothes. Corin made no secret of the fact that, meal aside, he was counting the minutes until he could throw off his heavily trimmed brown-and-gold garb in favor of more comfortable clothing for the afternoon games. Cor looked as though he felt the same way, but said nothing. As he caught his older sister's eye, she could very nearly hear his thoughts: _I know, I know. At least we both _have _clothes now that fit properly and aren't rags._

Cari's mouth twitched slightly at one corner, but she said nothing back. _Besides, I like this dress. I really don't care to take it off for a less fancy one. And I _really _don't care to spend all afternoon making a fool out of myself at the games._

_Cari, be reasonable. You didn't make a complete fool of yourself at the Narnian games this summer; why would you think it would happen here?_

_Oh, let's see. For one thing, I only participated in one activity at the Narnian festival; here, I have to do far more, and therefore I'll have far more chances to trip and fall and injure other people in addition to myself. And for another, I've spent the past week injuring myself, which makes me far more vulnerable to tripping. Honestly, I'll be lucky not to trip while I'm carrying the bread to our table on the terrace for the feast._

But Cari did not trip while carrying the bread to the table; in fact, she did not so much as stumble. She did, however, walk as slowly and carefully as possible after her father and Cor – with Corin clearing his throat meaningfully at her the entire way from the kitchen to the terrace – so as to avoid any mishaps. Aravis followed gracefully behind him, bearing an elegant silver serving bowl of applesauce, and was the last of the party to place her dish on the table at the head of the terrace. Pillars and tables alike were liberally adorned with garlands of autumn flowers, grasses, and leaves, although more than half the space on the tabletops was filled with platters, bowls, and other serving dishes containing almost every kind of food Cari had ever seen. The head table was particularly crowded; in fact, much of the space directly across from the royal family members' seats, space that normally would have been filled with place settings, was instead taken up with serving dishes containing the foods that the king, his children, and Aravis would be serving to the guests at the feast. The dishes they themselves had carried to the table – surrounded by the respectfully standing, silent guests – were merely the last of the foods.

In accordance with the traditions Cari had spent the last few months learning about, King Lune offered a prayer of thanks to Aslan for the year's harvest. Afterwards, first Cor, then Cari, Corin, and Aravis spoke their own traditional prayers, having written out and learned the words from one of Master Dorian's books. Fortunately, Cari's practice with her aunt the previous night paid off, and she made no mistakes.

The king then signaled to his children, and they picked up their serving utensils and spent the next twenty minutes dishing meat, cheese, applesauce, and bread onto the plates of the guests, who proceeded to and from their tables in a single line. At the end, the king served his own children before dishing food onto his own plate, and they seated themselves to eat.

Cari found herself enjoying the meal, despite having to get up fairly often to take empty serving dishes off the tables and replenish them; it was long-standing tradition for the royal family and the castle's lords and ladies in residence to give the servants a meal free of work. Even Corin did not complain about his duties; he merely compensated for them by shoveling down even more food than usual. He and Danielle proved enthusiastic, helpful guides for Cor, Cari, and Aravis, who had not yet learned the shortest routes from the kitchens to the terrace, or the best tricks for stacking the serving dishes. _Not to mention how many soap flakes to put in the barrels for soaking all of these bowls,_ Cari mused as she and Cor dragged a barrel to the pump that drew water from the castle's reservoir. _I'd probably have put in far too many and ended up spilling suds all over the kitchen. It's a good thing they have so many aprons in here, too. I really don't want to think about what my dress would look like otherwise._

After the feast, everybody headed to the west lawn for the traditional harvest games, with the four royal siblings taking a quick detour through the castle to change from their formal dinner garb into more comfortable outdoor garments. Cari, along with the twins, Aravis, and Danielle, bobbed for apples, participated in the tennis tournament (which ended mercifully early for Cari, as Aravis, her playing partner, was having a bad day in the nets and she herself had never been able to play the game consistently), and ran in the traditional grain relay. This last activity nearly proved to be Cari's undoing, as it required each member of the opposing teams to run clear across the lawn from the starting line, gather the scattered wheat stalks at the other end and bind them into a sheaf, and carry the sheaf back before his or her teammate could dash off to repeat the process. Cari had never been a particularly fast runner, so she was assigned the third spot of her ten-person team. This proved a wise choice, for in her haste, she tripped once on the way across the lawn and twice on the way back, and the last time she dropped her sheaf and spilled the stalks she had taken so much precious time to gather. Gathering and re-binding them cost her team more than half a leg, and even Cor and Corin's fleetness could only raise the team in the end to eighth place out of twenty teams.

After Corin, the team's last and speediest runner, crossed the finish line, Cari steeled herself for all manner of teasing and dirty looks from the twins. However, Corin seemed satisfied with spending the next few minutes in an imitation of her fall-ridden odyssey that was so hilarious, even Cari could not help but smile, although weakly.

"Don't worry, Corin," she said when her brother's antics had finally subsided. "I won't run next year, so you needn't worry about losing so badly again."

Corin threw her a mock-stern look. "Of course you'll run, Cari. Cor and I'll simply have to learn to run twice as fast as we do now. That way, we might actually end up seventh instead of eighth."

"Ha, ha, ha," replied Cari, narrowing her eyes at him.

"And don't forget Aravis," Cor put in. "She'll have to learn to run _three _times as fast."

Aravis looked at him sharply. "Three times? Why?"

" 'Cause you're only half as fast as Corin and me, of course," he responded.

"Would you like to prove the opposite right now, then?" Aravis immediately shot back, at the same moment Cari answered, "Well, technically if she were only half as fast as you, she'd need to run four times as fast as she does now, not three."

"Huh?" exclaimed both twins, the looks on their faces so quizzical that Cari burst out laughing. Even Aravis grinned.

"Well, in any case I'm still faster than her," said Cor after a few moments. Seeing Aravis's dirty look, he grinned. "And I don't mind proving it again."

"Again? How do you know I didn't run faster the first time, unless you can keep a clock in your head?" retorted Aravis as the two jogged to the finish line to run a reverse leg.

Cor did indeed beat Aravis, but only by a stride, and the two argued all the way across the lawn to the enormous pile of straw that marked the ring-in-the-haystack dig.

Due in large part to her assiduous dedication to her dance lessons since her inauspicious experiences at the Narnian festival, Cari did very well at the dances held on the lawn after supper that evening. _Of course, it helps that Archenlanders tend to do more group dances than Narnians,_ she mused as she grabbed onto Cor's waist in front of her as part of the popular human-snake dance, then held on for dear life as Danielle, right behind her, enthusiastically seized hers and very nearly knocked her off balance.

_Oh, I am going to be sorer tomorrow than I've been since Calormen, farm work and all,_ Cari groaned to herself that night as she helped Cor pour yet another kettle of hot water into one of the kitchens' dish-barrels. The royal family's duties for the day had continued into the night, as they and the castle nobility had cleared the tables, cleaned the terrace, and cleaned all of the day's dishes. After Cari had stumbled into a table and nearly smashed an entire armload of dishes while clearing the terrace, her father had suggested that she switch to dish duty. _Not that I blame him; if I break anything, it'll be just one dish at a time, rather than an entire stack of them._

But Cari did not break any dishes; that honor went to Aravis, who accidentally smashed two plates, a bowl, and a tankard that was still half-full of mead before the night was out. The twins both set to teasing her at once, and Aravis and Cor very nearly broke out into a fight. Luckily, just at that moment Danielle, skipping into the kitchens from the terrace, slipped in the spilled mead and would have fallen flat on the floor had Corin not caught her and then slipped himself, so that he landed in a sprawling heap underneath her. Cari widened her eyes in alarm, but her brother and cousin both burst out laughing, and after a moment so did she. In fact, the longer the laughed, the more amusing she found the situation; even when the others had finished laughing, she kept on going. She barely even noticed Corin throwing Cor a quizzical look, or Cor rolling his eyes and sighing exaggeratedly in reply.

"Oh, don't mind her," he said airily. "Just another laughing fit is all. She'll come up for air in a few days or so."

Cari was laughing so hard at this point that she could not even hit him, as she wanted to, but she did manage to pound the rim of the barrel she was hunched over. Corin widened his eyes for a moment, then shrugged. Aravis, who after all had seen a similar display from Cari before, merely raised an eyebrow. Danielle, however, patted Cari on the shoulder and asked anxiously if she was all right. Cari managed to nod, but it took her several minutes to calm down. When she did, she found her ribs so sore that it eventually took a couple of tries and Cor's help to stand fully upright again – a fact he did not let her forget until they finally left the kitchens for their apartments long into the early morning hours. By then, Cari's head had begun to ache, along with the rest of her. _Of course it would. Why leave one part of my body free of soreness?_

The next morning, however, Cari found herself longing for the previous night's mild headache. Even before she opened her eyes, she felt a throbbing at the back of her skull that she had not experienced since she had crossed the desert into Archenland that summer. _Oh, blast it. Oh, _blast _it. Have I already gotten so weak that I get sick after a couple weeks of working only half as hard as I ever did in Arsheesh's house – if that?_

At length she managed to force herself to sit up slowly – and painfully, for many of her other muscles ached as well – and Mara quickly sensed that something was wrong.

"Are you not feeling well, Princess Cari?" she inquired not five seconds after laying her eyes on the girl.

Cari managed to shake her head a few inches to each side. _Ouch!_ "I'll be fine, Mara, thank you," she finally said. "I just have a bit of a headache. I'm sure it will clear up."

Mara tilted her head, and Cari could tell she knew better. "You might ask for rosemary tea with lavender, Princess," she advised gently as she buttoned Cari's dress. "It should help relieve the pain."

Cari tried to smile slightly, but the expression came out looking more like a grimace. "Thank you, Mara."

The tea she asked for at the breakfast table did indeed help, but only a tiny bit, and for perhaps an hour. Throughout the rest of the morning, the headache grew steadily worse, and Cari found herself spending a good deal of time and effort trying to keep from visibly wincing every time somebody spoke, or laughed, or dropped a stone on the board during a game of Jump-Crystals. When Lord Dorn opened the door leading off of the entrance hall on his way indoors to lunch, the sound of the rain outside felt to Cari's overtaxed ears like a chorus of thunderstorms breaking out over the edge of the Eastern Sea all at once, complete with lightning and thunder. She cringed.

"Cari? Are you all right?" Danielle's bright, high-pitched voice, normally an endearing sound, hit Cari's eardrums with nearly the force of the screams Hwin had emitted during their final flight to the Hermit's home in the Southern March.

Cari winced again, but managed to keep it more understated this time. "Yes, Danielle, I'm fine," she answered. As soon as the younger girl had turned to speak to Corin, she shut her eyes tightly and brushed some of the gathering sweat off of her forehead. _Blast it! I shouldn't have chosen this dress; it's too thick. I am sweltering hot, and that does _not _help my headache – or make me amenable to drinking more rosemary-lavender tea._

However, Cari did manage to down a full mug of the steaming brew by the end of lunchtime. Even then, the pain in her head barely decreased if at all, and she ended up bringing a newly-refilled cup out onto one of the terraces after lunch in hopes that the afternoon's second dose would prove more effective than its first. _In any case, it's cooler outside than in here. I shouldn't feel so much like roasting._

Unfortunately, the crisp autumn air did not do much to ease the heat that bubbled up from some unseen, bottomless source inside Cari's body and coursed through her veins for the remainder of the afternoon. She surreptitiously rolled up her sleeves as far as was both possible and polite, and when she thought nobody was looking, she either waved her hand in front of her face to cool it or blew upwards from the direction of her bottom lip. Even then the warmth did not abate, and given the headache, which only made the heat feel worse, it was all Cari could do to follow the most basic threads of the conversation she was holding with her father, aunt, and uncle. _Well, really, it's their conversation; I can't even remember what Uncle Dorn said two sentences ago, let alone respond to it intelligently._

"Cari?" Her father's voice, a hint of concern apparent in it, interrupted her thoughts. _Blast it. What did he ask me again? Have I caught a story…no, that doesn't make any sense at all…_ She looked up blankly just as her father finished repeating the question, of which her ears seemed not to have caught a single word.

Cari was mortified. "I'm sorry, Father, have I caught what again?"

Her father's brow was clearly wrinkled by now. "No, Cari, I asked if Master Dorian had taught you that yet." Seeing his daughter's blank face, he added, "That is, about the war your uncle was mentioning – yes, the Great Western War," he finished, just as Lord Dorn opened his mouth.

"Oh." _"Oh"? Come on, Cari; you can surely find _something _to salvage out of this disaster. There's no need to appear a complete and utter idiot in addition to hopelessly clumsy; even half an idiot will do at this point._ "Um – yes– I mean, no – no, we haven't gotten to it in our history books yet," she managed. "I have learned a few things about the war, but that was from – well, from my personal study, with Master Dorian's encouragement." _And Father's, of course, seeing as I only found out about the Battle of the Flood in the first place because he showed me Mother's tapestry. _

By the time Cari brought herself back out of her thoughts, however, the others were a couple of questions ahead of her again, and more than once she had to ask them to repeat themselves. The call indoors for tea could not have come soon enough, although she could barely force down another half-cup of the rosemary-lavender brew that had heretofore taken just enough edge off her headache to keep her sitting upright.

Even sitting, however, proved a difficult task by suppertime. Having long since given up trying to follow the conversations of those around her, Cari spent the entire hour trying as hard as she could not to pass out cold on the table. When they rose after dessert to adjourn to the solar, a wave of dizziness rushed through her aching head, and she had to grab the edge of the table with both hands to keep from losing her balance and falling flat on the floor. Cor, who had been sitting next to her, quickly reached over to steady her.

"You all right, Cari?" he asked in a low voice. "You look like you're – well – feeling feverish."

_Ha! I wish I were only feeling "feverish." "Boiled, fried, and pickled to boot" is more like it. Oh, no, I should _not _have taken my hand off the table – down I go!_

Fortunately, Cor held her up with his brother's help, but just then, King Lune turned his head and noticed them.

"Cari, are you all right?" he inquired, and every head in the room swiveled to regard his daughter, who was gripping the table with one white-knuckled hand and clinging to Cor with the other.

"I'm fine, Father," she managed, but immediately noticed the unwitting rasp that had somehow crept into her voice. She made a half-hearted effort to clear her throat, inwardly wincing at the fresh stab of pain the attempt brought to her head. "I – I think I am merely a bit treaded – I mean, tied – I mean, tired." She blinked in an effort to clear the tears from her eyes.

The king, however, lifted both eyebrows in clear disbelief. However, his first words were not to Cari but to Lord Dorn, Lady Lara, and Danielle. "I shall join you shortly," he said, then nodded toward Aravis and the twins even as he made his way around the table and reached out to put an arm around his daughter. "Thank you, Cor, Corin – Aravis. You may join the others in the solar."

Cor raised his left eyebrow in the expression Cari's eyes had memorized years ago, but he said nothing. He did, however, give her shoulder a whisper of a squeeze before releasing her. Cari managed to drive one corner of her mouth up a tiny bit in reply – _at least, I think it moved. Poor Cor._

However, she quickly turned her attention back to her father, who was calling her name and frowning in concern. Just as she was willing herself to open her mouth in an attempt to reply, he gently placed his hand on the side of her head, near her cheek, and almost immediately drew it away as if he had been burned.

"Carisa!" he exclaimed, clearly upset. "Your skin is nearly on fire." Leaning down so that his eyes were on a direct level with hers, he asked, "Does not your head hurt as well?"

Cari closed her eyes and let out as much of a sigh as she could manage without causing her head too much further pain. She reluctantly opened them again to answer her father. "Yes, Father – a little." Saying the words brought a fresh wave of pain to her head, and she breathed in sharply even as she blinked again.

Her father tilted his head intently, and he could not keep the worried tone out of his voice. "I think your head must hurt more than a little, Carisa. You should see Master Salus or Mistress Thamina. Come, I shall send for them and take you to your room." As he referenced the castle's head healers, he reached out and put his arm around her shoulders to support her. Cari winced in anticipation of a fresh wave of pain in response to the contact, but almost sighed in relief when it did not come. Her shoulders, which had hunched tighter and tighter throughout the day as her pain worsened, relaxed slightly into her father's supporting arm, and she found herself able to slowly turn her head in his direction without feeling as though she would pass out.

"I – it's all right, Father, there's no need to trouble them," she protested, although rather weakly. "I think I should be all right if I simply lie down and rest."

King Lune, however, had clearly heard enough. "Not when your skin is this warm, Cari," he answered sternly, and began to guide her down the hallway toward the nearest flight of stairs to the upper floors.

By the time they reached their destination, Cari barely had the strength to stand, let alone protest her relative lack of illness – a tactic that would not have worked in any case once Mara and Maria took one look at her. Within no time flat, Cari found herself being frog-marched into her bedroom and undressed. Through the pain-driven haze that had settled around her, she noticed Mara's eyes widen in a fashion that would have struck her as unnerving, had she not at that moment begun to shiver uncontrollably. All she could hear above the sound of her own teeth chattering was a muted exclamation from the older woman about a fever and a few terse orders issued to an uncharacteristically silent Maria. Only when her head hit her pillow, causing a screaming burst of pain, did Cari realize that the two servants had somehow managed to put her nightgown on and ease her onto her bed.

Not long afterward, following a soft knock that nearly burst Cari's head open, King Lune entered the room. Following on his heels appeared a tall figure whom Cari eventually recognized as the pale, silver-maned Mistress Thamina, the female of the castle's two senior healers. Despite her eyes' screams to stay shut and block the lamplight that had remained after the two servants had hurriedly shut the blinds, Cari managed to open them and respond to the older woman's questions about her fever and pain and how long they had lasted as best she could. During the conversation, her body heated up again, causing her to bat away every inch of covering she could reach. After a brief, whispered conference with Mistress Thamina and the servants, the king withdrew – Cari thought he might have said he would be right outside and that she was in very capable hands, but she couldn't be entirely sure.

No sooner had Cari left than what sounded like the Winding Arrow pouring into her room caused her to jump nearly out of her skin; as it was, her head felt as though it had smashed full-tilt into the ceiling. She moaned in protest, but a few seconds later felt the sweet relief of a cool cloth covering her forehead, and the next moment its mate on her right arm. Within short order, her neck and limbs had been wrapped in a soothing cocoon that partially eased the burning of the blood inside her veins.

"Thanks, Mara…Mar-Ma-Maria…Mistress…Thamina," she managed to whisper, even as the healer bent over her and momentarily lifted the cloth on her forehead, causing an involuntary moan of protest. Mistress Thamina raised half of one eyebrow, which Cari despite her discomfort registered as both strange and a bit alarming, before conferring with Mara again.

Before Cari passed out into a merciful bout of unconsciousness, the last thing she could remember was the healer's steady hand holding her head up while the other poured a trickle of cool, sweet water down her throat. Even as the older woman murmured, "Drink a bit more, Princess, that's good," Cari felt herself descend into a misty dimness.

_I know I must have tasted that water before,_ she felt her mind murmur as she drifted off into unconsciousness.


	30. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

A pale flicker of light interrupted the blackness surrounding Cari for the briefest of seconds. She opened her eyes as wide as she could, willing it to appear again, but it did not.

A few minutes later, or perhaps an hour, the light reappeared, this time long enough for Cari to see that she could not define it by one color. She was still puzzling over just how many shades she had counted in this second appearance when the flame – it seemed more like the glow from a faraway fire than anything else – emerged a third time, leaping higher than it had previously. Now she could distinguish the rippling progression that danced from burnished orange to clear golden, then into sea-green and violet, all the way across the glowing surface.

Just as the strange light began to fade again, a piercing fleck of light appeared in front of it, a cheap but insistent interruption. Annoyed, Cari tried to blink it away, only to find herself suddenly back in her bed and staring blearily at Mistress Thamina, who was holding a candle in front of her. She opened her mouth to protest, but that only made her still-throbbing temples hurt even more, so she slowly moved her jaws back together – but not before emitting an involuntary moan. It was then that she registered how painfully dry – and hot – her throat was.

"Princess Cari," Mistress Thamina was murmuring softly, though the sound of her voice made Cari's ears ring. "Can you hear me?"

Cari stiffly tilted her head as best she could in reply.

"Good." Gently cupping the girl's head with one arm, the healer raised it slightly, eliciting another groan from Cari even as she produced a goblet with the other and held it against the princess's lips. "Drink some more, then – there you go. It will help with the pain," she continued, seeing Cari grimace with the effort of swallowing the cool, sweet liquid inside.

Taking as deep a breath as she could manage, Cari tried to obey, but before she had drunk what the healer deemed enough of the liquid, plenty had dribbled over her chin and splashed onto her chest and shoulders. It felt pleasant against her feverish skin, even if only for a few moments. She half expected, however, to hear the drops sizzle as they landed; in the few minutes she had been awake, her body had grown warmer, if possible, than when she had first lain down. Even as she finished drinking, she moaned again, weakly attempting to push the covers off of her legs. She did not get very far, but Mistress Thamina saw what she was doing and finished the task for her.

"Warm again?" she murmured, not needing Cari's barely perceptible nod. "Let's take care of that, then." Her last few words were nearly drowned out by the earsplitting clatter of the drops being wrung from the cloth she had just immersed in a nearby basin. Cari squeezed her eyes shut, but too quickly, and the resulting spasm of pain nearly caused her to black out before she recovered herself. Within moments, she felt a comforting chill blanketing her forehead, which slightly eased the agony caused by the sound of the next cloth being wrung out. Nevertheless, by the time Mistress Thamina reached the fifth or sixth cloth, Cari wondered why her head had not yet split open. Just as she had reached the conclusion that that would be preferable to the further roaring of the dripping water, the healer reached for the goblet again, and Cari realized with relief that her entire body was now covered with the wet cloths. In the midst of her sigh of relief, she felt the goblet against her lips again. No sooner had she finished drinking than the darkness engulfed her once again.

Cari woke and drank again several more times, always fading back into sleep almost immediately. At one point, she noticed that somebody must have changed the water out, as the herbs in it tasted fresher than usual. She opened her eyes slowly, expecting for some reason to see a long white beard descending from the face of the person in front of her, and winced slightly when she realized it was Mara. Only then did it occur to her that the Hermit of the Southern March must have used the same herbs in the water he had made her drink during her illness there.

_Good. Let's hope they work again._

Fortunately, Cari was not disappointed. The next time she awoke, both her fever and her headache had subsided somewhat, and the next time after that, she found herself able to sit up slowly, get out of bed, and look out the window at the setting sun without experiencing a fresh outburst of pain behind her eyes. Mara, who was thrilled to see her charge up and about again, had some broth and crackers brought up from the kitchens, and insisted on getting Cari a bath besides. It was she who informed a startled Cari that the latter had been bedridden for two full days, and that in the meantime her relatives had left.

Despite her relative lack of exertion, Cari found herself a bit unsteady on her feet, but Mistress Thamina did not seem too concerned. "You're doing well to be standing at all so soon after the fever you had," she said as she held her fingers against the girl's forehead. After a moment she nodded and withdrew her hand. "Very much improved; your temperature is back to normal." She gave Cari a searching look. "And you have no headache, you say?"

Cari shook her head. "None at all, Mistress Thamina."

The healer nodded shortly. "Good. I will send for your father, then."

Before she reached the door, however, Cari voiced the question that had occurred to her as she had been dressing. "But he – you don't think he'll catch – whatever it is I've got, then?"

The older woman shook her head. "I do not believe so, as your servants have not shown any of your symptoms, and neither has anyone else in the castle. However, I will have your father stay across the room from you, just to be safe."

By the time she reached her sitting room, however, Cari found herself facing not only her immensely relieved father – who looked as though he would dash across the room and embrace her, no matter what the healer had told him – but also her brothers and Aravis.

"Well, look who's decided to get up after all." Corin grinned. He turned to his brother and shook his head, even as he _tut-tut_ted mournfully. "Honestly, Cor, I don't know why we haven't thought of using that excuse to avoid our lessons yet – especially since Master Dorian decided to move up our mathematics exam to today. We couldn't even be bothered to skip it, and here our sister beats us to it." He turned back to Cari and shook his head in mock disgust. "Pathetic, I tell you – pathetic."

Cari narrowed her eyes at him, even as she rolled them. "Lovely to see you again, too, Corin." She smiled sweetly. "I'm sure you got very high marks, though."

Cor grinned as his twin shot him a disbelieving stare, but before either could say anything, King Lune interrupted them with a hearty, "I am so glad you are feeling better, Carisa." He raised an eyebrow at his younger son as he added, "We all are."

"It's true," added Aravis, with the slightest tilt of her head in the twins' direction. "Cor and Corin are quite anxious to have you back assisting them in their studies." Her smile at Cor's exaggerated eyeroll and Corin's dramatic intake of breath was genuine enough, but Cari understood the underlying note of concern in the younger girl's voice.

_I suppose I don't blame her, though, _Cari mused later,even as she laughed over the whispered argument she had overheard as her brothers traversed the hallway connecting her sitting room with Aravis's; apparently Corin had lost his wager that Cari would believe that Master Dorian had actually moved up the mathematics exam. _I expect I've looked just as bad over the past couple of days as I did when we were staying with the Hermit._

The following morning, however, drove all concerns about her looks and illness out of Cari's mind completely. While dressing, she happened to look out the window, and in her shock nearly jumped through it to boot. As it was, her resulting yelp brought both Mara and Maria running into the room.

"Princess Cari, what's wrong?" As usual, her mistress's anxiety brought about a noticeable increase in the pitch of Maria's girlish voice as she rushed to Cari's side. Cari, however, could only stand open-mouthed and stare out the window in amazement.

Tiny specks of seagull feathers swirled on the brisk northern wind in lazy spirals from the clouds above the castle onto the ground, which itself was a sight to behold. The courtyard stones directly beneath Cari's window, the tops of the walls farther out, and grass and trees alike in the expanse beyond them all were blanketed in a fine covering of the feathers, as though a white sandstorm had whirled over Arsheesh's cottage and turned the surrounding landscape into a pale desert.

"Oh, I know; isn't it lovely?" exclaimed Maria, clearly not in the least bit startled. "I love the first snowfall of the year – Master Trias always lets us out of lessons early for snowball fights!"

"And you'd best hope for excellent snow this year, seeing as it's nearly your last," her mother replied, leaning down to stow some linens in a cabinet. "After you're through with school, there's no telling whether you'll be let off your duties early." Seeing Cari's continuing puzzlement, she smiled. "Don't worry, Princess; you'll get accustomed to the snow in no time. Heaven only knows we get enough of it every year."

_Oh, right._ As Cari's surprise subsided, she recalled the pictures she had seen in her textbooks portraying scenes not unlike the one playing out before her eyes. _Corin and Father said that's what winter would look like in Archenland. I simply couldn't imagine it at the time._

At breakfast, Corin eagerly described his plans for the castle children's first snowball fight to his bemused siblings. "The servants' master always lets them off lessons early," he said, "and as soon as I get out of lessons, I join them, and we all take off onto one of the hills on the north side – it's got some gullies in it that are perfect for that sort of thing." Here his eyes widened even further. "And if it's really good snow, and if there's enough of it, we even begin to build forts."

"Out of the snow?" inquired a clearly skeptical Aravis.

Corin nodded. "Well, of course." Seeing her raised eyebrows, he added quickly, "You'll see once you get to it; it's not as though it's that difficult or anything." Ignoring the narrowed eyes of both Aravis and Cor, he rushed on. "Anyhow, the past two years my team's beat Tobin's, and I bet him double that we'd win again this year." Seeing his father's mouth open, he hastened to add, "Just chores again, Father, don't worry."

"Your team?" Cari asked, at the same time as Cor said, "You get off of lessons early?"

Corin grinned. "Well, sure; Tobin and I always pick our teams first thing after we all meet up." Turning to his twin, he added, "Well, Master Dorian's always been more of a stickler than Master Trias for lesson times, but I bet he'll let us go early this time. After all – " here his grin turned positively wicked – "I'm sure he wouldn't want to deprive all of you the opportunity to educate yourselves about one of the most important traditions in Archenland."

King Lune grinned right back at his son. "I think he would more greatly regret depriving them of further education about their school books, Corin, especially since your particular tradition begins at precisely the moment you leave your lessons, and not a moment sooner."

The boy remained undeterred. "But if you were to tell him at what moment to end our lessons, Father, he'd have to obey you."

King Lune only shook his head, although he could not keep back a smile. "And if I were to make it an hour later than usual, Corin, instead of an hour earlier, he should have to obey me then as well."

The two had obviously had this discussion many times before, and with the same result, for Corin merely stuck out his lower lip dramatically and replied, "And if I promise to work an hour over tomorrow, we'd be square, wouldn't we?"

The king merely shook his head again. "You already have enough extra hours to make up from before the festival, Corin, and those to be done before Christmas. You shall all have more than enough time to perfect your other skills after Master Dorian lets you out for the holiday."

Sure enough, all of Corin's pleading could not wrangle so much as a free minute from the teacher, and the four left the school room at the usual time.

"Right." Corin turned to his two siblings and Aravis. "So, get your coats on, and the warmest clothes you have, and I'll meet you at the terrace entrance by the creamery in fifteen minutes. Tobin and everybody else will be waiting for us."

For once, Aravis looked even more confused than Cari as the two girls headed for their rooms. She said nothing, but Cari guessed that she had not studied the winter pictures as much as the older girl had – and furthermore, she would have wagered that Aravis's upbringing would not have included nearly as many throwing games as she and Cor had played as country children, who were, after all, considered uncouth and unlettered by those of the Tarkheena's social class.

Nevertheless, none of this made Cari feel particularly like participating in a game whose sole object seemed to be throwing as many cold, wet objects as possible at as many other people as possible. _Besides, I'm sure I'd trip and stumble all over the place before I could get off a single shot. And didn't Corin say this all happens when the servant children leave their lessons? They only attend lessons until they're fifteen years old. I'm sure I would be far too old for all of this._

That, however, turned out not to be the case, as several of Cari's and Aravis's ladies-in-waiting, as well as all of the twins' gentlemen-in-waiting, turned out for the event. In addition, by the time the three siblings, Aravis, and their attendants made their way out to the terrace, the group following Tobin, the fourteen-year-old son of one of the cooks, had more than a few other people over fifteen – including, to Cari's surprise, Mariel, Maria's seventeen-year-old sister.

"Oh, are you playing, too, Princess?" the girl inquired.

Cari, uncertain about how to reply, had just opened her mouth when Corin swooped in out of nowhere. "Of course she is." He turned to Tobin, who was standing nearby with Cor and Aravis. "I say, Tobin, shouldn't we begin, seeing as we have everybody?"

Tobin shrugged affably. "Sure." He raised his voice. "Everybody, let's go, then!"

And without further ado, the entire party headed off for the hill of which Corin had spoken earlier.

As the group left the relative protection of the castle walls, the winds picked up at once, and Cari shivered as a particularly cold gust blew over her. What made her jump, however, was being hit simultaneously by what felt like ten thousand tiny droplets of sea water chilled to an unimaginably low temperature. At the same time, she heard Cor's startled exclamation in front of her, even as Aravis, just next to her, audibly gulped and shivered so violently that she stumbled into Cari.

Turning around to see both girls nearly hit the ground, Corin hooted. "Don't worry, it won't kill you," he assured them, grinning. "It just takes some getting used to, provided you don't get too many snowballs in the face, since they'll make your skin peel." Seeing the identical quizzical looks on all three faces, he only laughed harder.

"Blimey, Corin, don't talk them out of playing," admonished Tobin. Turning to Cor, Cari, and Aravis, he added, "Don't listen to him; he's only exaggerating. After all, this is the same chap who told me there was a monster hiding in the cave on the west side of that hill – " here he pointed to a hill slightly off to the left of the one they were making for – "and it would eat me alive if I ever went near it."

"And you believed me," Corin reminded him, his grin widening.

"Sure," Tobin retorted, "and _you _believed _me_ when I told you the mice would sneak up from the kitchens at night and bite off your fingers unless you left a trail of cheese for them all the way up from the stairs and into your room."

Cor doubled over at this, and even Aravis and Cari cracked smiles. Corin, however, narrowed his eyes at his friend.

"Right," he replied, "and you'd best believe me when I tell you you're about to get beaten to shreds. _And_ knocked down," he added, as sternly as he could.

Tobin's grin only widened. "We'll see."

By the time they got to the hill, the wind had let up a bit, which made it a bit easier for Cari to concentrate on the rules of the game, which Tobin – not Corin, to his sister's slight surprise – shouted out to everybody present, although Cari got the distinct impression that this was mainly for the three new arrivals' benefit. Luckily, one of the rules banned the players from throwing the snowballs into each other's faces, although every other part of the body seemed to be fair game.

After announcing the rules, Tobin allowed everybody a short break. This gave Corin and some of the attendants enough time to show Cor, Cari, and Aravis how to make snowballs – a process that made Cari thank her lucky stars for the thickness of her gloves. They made forming snowballs a bit cumbersome, but kept her hands perfectly dry.

Once Corin seemed satisfied with the progress his siblings and Aravis had made, he and Tobin began choosing their teams. This puzzled Cari, who had thought the teams would be split between the servants and the attendants-in-waiting, along with the other four – and if the confused look on Aravis's face was any indication, she had not been the only one to think so. However, it was obviously part of the tradition for Corin and Tobin, as opposing team captains, to choose their players one by one from among the others. Moreover, to ensure fairness in the order of selection, Corin produced a silver halfpenny from his coat pocket, gave it to Mariel, and asked her – very nicely, Cari noticed – to flip it. She tossed it high in the air, and while it was still on its way down, Tobin hollered, "Tails!" When Mariel caught the coin, she flipped it onto her other hand and held it out to the two boys, and Corin let out a whoop.

"Heads it is!" he yelled triumphantly, then turned to Tobin. "Ready to get walloped, then?"

"No, you are," replied the latter, grinning.

"As if!" Corin turned to the onlookers and, wasting no time, called out, "Cari!"

"Yes, Corin, I'm right here," she answered, taking two steps forward to emphasize her point. _Honestly, I'm not that deaf._

Her brother rolled his eyes. "No, silly, I meant I'm picking you."

That stopped Cari cold in her tracks, to the tune of a hastily stifled laugh from Cor. "What?"

"You know – as my teammate," Corin replied, clearly enjoying her befuddlement. "Unless you'd rather not, of course."

"Oh – no – I mean – right, then," Cari managed. She stepped to his side, her face flaming, and tried not to notice the mostly understanding smiles around her. _And that will give my teammates loads of confidence._

Tobin quickly selected Aravis, and Cor next chose his twin. Within a few minutes, the teams had been divided, and each side raced to choose a gully in which to hide and make snowballs. Fortunately, Cari's teammates gave her a good deal of encouragement, especially Maria, who proved full of hints on the dodging and throwing patterns of nearly every member of the opposing team.

"And if you miss your shot," she assured the other girl, "you'll have plenty of spare balls right over there, and there, even if you haven't got any in your arm. That's what we ball-makers are here for." She indicated herself and three others, whose sole duty, Cari had learned, was to keep their teammates amply supplied.

"Don't worry," broke in Corin, who had just run up to them. "She won't miss; she's been taking lessons from Master Ordell."

The younger girl's eyes widened as she turned to Cari. "Really?"

"Well…" Before Cari had to try explaining, however, that her lessons from Master Ordell had not involved any preparation for snowball fighting, Corin had sprung to the edge of the gully, produced a whistle from his pocket, and blown it loudly enough to halt his team's activities – and, Cari presumed, those of the other team as well, for at that moment Tobin appeared and met his counterpart halfway between the two ditches. The two briefly shook hands, then quickly parted and scrambled back to their respective territories.

Not two seconds later, Cari found herself thrown into the midst of a barrage of very white, very cold projectiles, several of which hit her before she had a chance to orient herself and set an aim, much less throw any, of her own at anybody else. Despite the rules, the air was so thick with flying snowballs that it was easy for one to miss its mark and hit the neck or head of somebody shorter than its intended target. The first time this happened to Cari, she screamed as the frozen fragments melted into her neck. Moments later, Aravis yelped as she suffered a similar fate. Fortunately, many of the other players were yelling instructions to their teammates or whooping in delight or frustration, so nobody made much ado of either incident.

_And a good thing, too,_ Cari grumbled as she ducked to avoid another missile. In her haste to get rid of her balls, she threw one half-blindly at Corin and missed by a foot.

_Cari, you idiot – he's your teammate! It's a good thing you can't hit anybody at this rate._

_Oh, for heaven's sake. If that had been a knife, I would have hit him – not that I would ever throw a knife at him in the first place. These snowballs are just too light and round; I can't be expected to throw them like knives right off the bat._

A few misses later, Cari got hit in the neck again, causing her to slip and lose all of her balls. _Oh, blast it! I can't even hold onto these buggering things, let alone throw them properly!_

Nevertheless, she retreated to the gully and refilled her arms with snowballs, this time going to the far left end and peering over the ledge before clambering carefully out onto the top. Keeping very near the hillside, which jutted up steeply and served as the boundary of the fighting area on one side, she crept forward, almost kneeling, and barely avoided hitting three different people before diving behind a bush for cover just as a particularly sizable snowball sailed over her head.

_Bother it all! I am never going to get a decent shot off at this rate. Whenever I try to duck out of here, I'm going to get hit._

Nevertheless, she ventured to peer out to the right-hand side of the bush, barely showing her head in the process and keeping it near the ground. It was then that she noticed Mariel and her lovely pair of boots darting toward Cor, who was off to her left and did not notice the girl's arm cocked back, ready to loft a snowball in the direction of his shoulder.

Luckily, Cari had grabbed a snowball just a moment before from the pile she had taken from the gully, and, almost without thinking, she let it fly, trying as she did to compensate for the ball's weight and shape. She had aimed for the girl's shoulder, but still let out a pleased yelp when it landed with a satisfying _whump!_ on her knee.

Startled, Mariel twisted her head sharply to find the source of the unexpected attack. Her right foot shot out from under her, and she landed hard in a heap on the snow.

"Oh, sorry – are you all right, Mariel?" Cari emerged from behind the bush, temporarily forgetting the heap of snowballs she had left there.

But before she reached the other girl, Mariel was already on her feet, packing a snowball. The only thing that prevented Cari from being hit by it was a spot-on shot from behind her that hit her opponent squarely in the stomach. Cari whirled around to see her rescuer, but Corin's familiar whoop reached her ears before she had made half the turn.

"Of course she's all right, Cari!" he yelled. "It's snow! Just throw another ball!"

_Oh, blast it – my snowballs!_ Pausing a moment to check that Mariel was on her feet and undamaged, Cari skidded back to the bush, where she found all of her ammunition intact. As she bent to gather the pile, however, an errant shot flew from the field of battle and exploded onto the back of her head. Screaming, Cari dropped half her snowballs, barely holding onto the others as she scrambled to find her footing and brush the snow off of her hair.

The game lasted nearly until dusk, Corin's team having won for the third time in as many years. He and Tobin needled each other the entire way back to the castle amid eddying gusts of wind, which had only gotten colder with the setting of the sun. Next to her, Cari heard Aravis's teeth chattering in concert with her own.

_Ugh. Can this weather possibly get any colder? If so, I'm going to spend the entire winter inside. _

_Fine. But why do I keep thinking I've felt colder weather than this before?_

_Probably because – oh, let's see – you've just had a terrible fever, then headed straight out into these temperatures. That would wreak a bit of havoc on anybody's senses._

A few days later, however, Cari discovered that nothing had been wrong with her senses after all. She was admiring a tapestry depicting three ships afloat when the memory struck her. _Of course! Narnia was still in the White Witch's power when Father and Mother took Cor, Corin, and me there. I remember going outside the hut we stayed in and looking at the icicles. I thought they were lovely._

Try as she might, however, Cari could not make her memory produce any more than the icicles. Even squeezing her eyes shut and willing her mother to enter the picture accomplished nothing other than an amazement at how very much the clear, frozen spikes resembled an inverted, bluish version of the crown that sat atop the Flame Sorcerer's head in the tapestry only a few halls down.

The next few days, however, swept all thoughts of icicles and sorcerer alike out of Cari's mind. Christmas was fast approaching, and Master Dorian kept his pupils scrambling to finish all of their required work by the day before the festivities began. Even though Cari had made more progress than the other three, she had moved into more difficult material, and her determination to achieve perfection if at all possible forced her to spend more than enough extra time on her work to compensate for her previous advancement.

In addition to her school work, Cari had two additional duties, both centered around her approaching nineteenth birthday. Since before the harvest festival, she had been hard at work taking special lessons in diplomatic protocol, international relations, and various traditions of neighboring countries, all in preparation for the commencement of her official duties immediately after her birthday. Furthermore, one day about two weeks after the harvest festival, King Lune took her to the castle seamstresses' quarters so that they could begin fitting her for the gown she would wear at the official birthday party, which would be attended by several foreign dignitaries. Fortunately, Cari's ladies-in-waiting had informed her that it would take every day of the following three months to make the dress, so that she was not entirely surprised when her father took her in for her first planning session with the seamstresses. _If I didn't know how many other sewing projects will probably be occupying them during that time, I would think they're insane for starting this early. Still – they just have to begin now, of course, when I'm working like crazy on all of Master Dorian's assignments and being driven half to distraction learning all of those new songs we'll be singing the night before Christmas. Not to mention the fact that Corin keeps on dragging us out into the snow – although I did love making snowmen with him the other day._

As Christmas approached, so did the traditional exchange of holiday greetings between the monarchs of Narnia and Archenland. The custom extended, as King Lune informed his children and Aravis one blustery afternoon, to children of the monarchs as well. Consequently, that very same evening, Cari found herself in the solar with the others, trying as best she could to write an acceptable letter – just one to all four monarchs jointly, King Lune had assured them, was perfectly fine and all that decorum required, to Cari's relief – while simultaneously ignoring Corin's teasing about minimum word requirements and the possibility of spilling ink all over the paper. _As if I don't have enough other things to worry about, such as writing too much, or too little, or saying something wrong somehow. Yes, a fine diplomat I'll make some day. _

Nevertheless, Cari resolutely dipped her quill into the inkstand, took a deep breath, and etched out the words, _From Princess Carisa of Archenland, to Peter, High King of Narnia, Emperor of the Lone Islands and Lord of Cair Paravel – oh, bother, what are his other titles again?_ She paused and replaced her quill, unconsciously rubbing her left earlobe between her thumb and forefinger. _Oh, that's it – "Knight of the Most Noble Order of the Lion."_ When she had finished writing, she took a deep breath and re-dipped her quill. _And those are just King Peter's titles. This is going to be a long evening._

Indeed, to no one's surprise, Cari took a good deal longer to write her letters than did the other three, laboring over nearly every turn of phrase as she did so. In the end, though, she was at least partially satisfied with the results; she had produced a very pleasant greeting that wished their recipients the most joyous of holidays and politely inquired as to their health and the state of affairs in Narnia. After much deliberation, she also reminded them of her gratefulness for their hospitality the previous summer and expressed her eagerness to return the favor the next time they happened to find themselves in Archenland.

On her way upstairs to a later-than-usual bedtime, Cari let out the long breath she had not realize she had been holding. _What a wonderful diplomat I shall make. I might actually be able to finish half a proper letter of state business every two days or so._ She sighed again. _Time for more letter-writing practice, I suppose._

Luckily, in the midst of all of her obligations, Cari found one that she enjoyed thoroughly – namely, her sessions with the seamstresses, which in the early stages mainly involved designing the gown and choosing the fabrics. Fortunately, on such occasions, the princess in question always wore the traditional Archenlandic blue, a color Cari loved. Even the requirement that the gown must have bronze trimmings, rather than the silver she would have preferred, did not diminish her enthusiasm, especially since it meant a trip into the castle vault that held the centuries-old jewelry she would be wearing. The matching gold-and-bronze necklace, earring, and bracelet set glittered with sapphires, aquamarines, various other blue gemstones Cari could not name, and diamonds. They were cunningly wrought in the form of lilies winding around braided vines, with droplets of the various blue and white hues falling here and there. The matching gold ring, which perfectly fit Cari's left middle finger, portrayed a perfect diamond lily with a sapphire center surrounded by lighter blue raindrops.

With the jewelry for guidance, as well as a few portraits of prior princesses in their official gowns, Cari eagerly worked in tandem with the seamstresses to design a light royal blue gown accentuated by lighter shades of blue and worked with floral designs in gold and bronze thread. She also used the pretext of her sessions to work on her joint gift to her father with Aravis, Corin, and Cor – a matching night robe and slippers made of the softest light blue and sea-foam green fabrics she could find and trimmed with gold thread. After her first visit to the seamstresses, the castle's tailors hurried over from their quarters next door as soon as the king was safely out the door. Fortunately, they were well attuned to the king's clothing preferences; Cari, Cor, and Aravis, not having been in Archenland for very long, were not familiar enough to design the clothes on their own, and Corin frankly acknowledged that he had no eye for "that sort of thing." However, he did admit his gratefulness to his sister – twice, to her astonishment – since her presence meant he no longer had to sneak to the tailors' quarters for repeated sessions that bored him almost to tears.

"It's not that I mind giving him the presents," he said one night over a game of Jump-Crystals in the solar. "He deserves all of them, and lots more. It's just a much better idea to have somebody other than me in charge of it; I'm no good at all."

Cor, who had snuck up behind his brother to watch the match, snickered, causing his twin to jump up and spill his stones all over the floor. This, of course, only made Cor laugh harder.

"'Course you're 'no good at all'," he said. "The only problem is naming all the things you're 'no good at all' at; I'm sure I can't remember them all."

Corin jumped up, having gathered all of his stones, and whirled to face his brother. "Oh, really? Want to find out just how 'good at all' I am at knocking you down?"

The only thing Corin ended up knocking down, however, was one of the many evergreen trees that the groundskeepers had brought in just a few days previously to adorn the castle for the upcoming holiday. Like most of the others, this one had already been decorated with burgundy ribbons and various bronze ornaments, courtesy of the castle servants and Master Dorian's pupils, who had been released from their lessons an hour early to join the king in the festivities. Apparently, some castle traditions were more sacred than the snowball fight.

_Well, perhaps not to Corin, _Cari thought, although the sight of her brother lying flat on the floor, tangled up in ribbons and rubbing his head where a particularly pointed bronze icicle had hit him, caused her to laugh nearly as hard as Cor, who was doubled over and hitting a nearby end table.

Two days before Christmas, Cari awoke to a fresh bout of snow, which Mara informed her – amidst scurrying to get the water heated – had been falling all night. Later that day, after Aravis and the three siblings had finally finished their lessons for the holidays, all but Cari scrambled outside for another snowball fight. The older girl, however, seized the chance to hustle to the tailors' quarters and pick up her father's Christmas present, as well as the tunics she had had made for her brothers – a hunter-green one with a bronze eagle emblazoned on the front for Corin and a matching royal-blue affair with a galloping silver horse for his brother. She also checked in with the seamstresses, who were putting the finishing touches on the crimson mantle, trimmed with brick-hued and gold brocade and trimmed with gold-threaded lions, that she had ordered for Aravis.

"So sorry, Princess Carisa!" exclaimed one of the younger seamstresses, who had clearly been awake and running to finish many different tasks for far more than her share of the past week. "This brocade is horribly tricky, and we meant to have it done by now, but I'm the one responsible for trimming it, and I felt I should get it done primp – I mean, properly – everybody else has done their work on it very timely. I'll have it done first thing in the morning, that I promise you."

Cari gave her a reassuring smile. "Please don't worry so much; tomorrow morning is plenty of time. I know you have many other projects that require your attention as well."

A few minutes later, she headed to her rooms in the most roundabout way possible, on the off chance that she should run into King Lune on the way. However, she met no one but servants, and entered her quarters fully intending to ensconce the robe, slippers, and tunics in the fine linen wrappings and silk threads the royal family customarily used on gift-giving occasions.

This, however, proved infeasible, for no sooner had Cari opened her receiving room door than she encountered Mara, Maria, Mariel, and Treya scrambling around her apartments in a whirlwind of brooms, dusting cloths, carpet scrubbers, and wash rags.

"Oh – sorry, Princess Cari!" exclaimed Maria, who had just narrowly missed bumping into her. "I – we – we didn't mean to be in your way. We thought you would be at your dancing lessons until five o'clock."

Cari grinned. "No, Mistress Shona decided to be merciful and cancel lessons until after Christmas." _And Cor's toes are thanking her already._ "But don't worry about it, please." Here she addressed the other three servants, who had gathered with harried, apologetic looks on their faces. "I just have a few things to stow in my bedroom, then I'll be out of your hair."

Two minutes later, Cari was on her way downstairs to the library. _I hope Miera isn't on a cleaning tear, too – although I suppose I could just snatch a book and try to find a corner of the castle where I'm not in somebody's way. _

As it turned out, neither Miera nor anyone else was cleaning the library, and Cari quickly found herself immersed in a biography of King Arbior until the bell rang for dinner.

The following day, Maria practically bounced from one end of Cari's bedroom to another, even as she carried out her duties.

"Happy Christmas Eve, Princess Cari!" she exclaimed as she helped Cari dress, using the name by which Narnians and Archenlanders alike called the day before Christmas.

"Happy Christmas Eve to you, too, Maria," managed Cari in spite of her yawns.

"Oh, it's already been a plenty happy day for me," enthused Maria. "I got up extra early to wrap my presents for my family and – well – others, too," she finished, her cheeks suddenly taking on more pink than usual. "But just you wait – you'll _love _Christmas Eve in Archenland! There's the stew dinner, and the mince-pies, and the carols, and – well – I think my mum will have a very nice surprise for you later."

Her interest piqued, Cari raised half an eyebrow questioningly at the younger girl. Accustomed as she was to hearing what seemed like every single inhabitant of the castle assuring her that she would love Archenland's winter holidays, she was nonetheless under the impression that gift-giving was restricted to Christmas only, and not permitted on Christmas Eve. _So why would she say Mara has a surprise for me today? Unless she meant tomorrow, and was too excited to mention that detail._

But just as she was opening her mouth to ask Maria to clarify her assurances, Mara, carrying a stack of clothes, pushed through the door.

After breakfast, Cor, Corin, and Aravis headed outdoors for yet another snowball fight, while Cari ascended the stairs to the seamstresses' quarters. Sure enough, Aravis's mantle was finished. _And beautifully, too,_ Cari mused back in her bedroom, as she stroked the brocade lining. _The seamstress certainly meant what she said yesterday about doing it properly._

When she had finished wrapping her family's gifts, Cari headed down one of the side staircases that led to the side of the basement that held the jewelers' quarters. Five minutes inside produced a large wooden box, which she carried off to her study along with more linen gift wrappings from her bedroom. Shutting both doors so as not to be disturbed, she removed from the box and wrapped, one by one, the silver-and-turquoise hair brooches she had had made for Mara, Maria, and her ladies-in-waiting, as well as the cloak fasteners of similar design that she had commissioned for Soren and Theodore (similar gifts had already left the Anvard the previous week for the abodes of Cari's aunts and their families).

The twins and Aravis came trooping into the castle, wet-haired and red-faced, just as Cari was descending the stairs for a light lunch in the breakfast room. Apparently they had taken to throwing snowballs at some old archery targets, for Aravis and Cor were arguing about how many points each had earned based on the number of shots each had fired that had hit specific areas on the targets.

"I don't _care _if you hit the bull's-eye more times than I did," Cor was saying as they took their seats. "You get twenty-five points for that, but you only get forty-seven for the rest. That makes seventy-two to my seventy-three."

Aravis rolled her eyes at him. "No, Cor, I get seventy-four. I got two more points when I re-did the shot where Corin bumped me in the shoulder, remember?"

"It was an _accident_," said Corin for what was clearly at least the third time, at the same moment his brother protested, "Well, I didn't have time to re-do my last shot, did I, when Corin was distracting me."

The younger twin rolled his eyes. "Oh, please. If you call that 'distracting,' then what do you call it when I was trying to make that one shot and you were laughing in my face?"

Cor snorted. "I wasn't laughing in your face, Corin, I was three feet to the side of you! And anyway, your other shot was so funny I couldn't help it. Besides, Aravis thought it was funny, too." He grinned at Cari. "I bet Cari would have even had one of her laughing fits if she'd been there."

Cari threw him one of her dirtiest looks. "I don't care what you think I would have done, Cor, but you'd best not try laughing in anybody's face when we go down to the kitchens after lunch to do the baking."

That confused the grin off of Cor's face. "Baking?"

"The Christmas cookies, dolt." Corin rolled his eyes.

"Oh, right." Cor's face took on another layer of red. "I forgot."

Corin snickered at this, although he ceased once King Lune reached the table.

As soon as they had finished lunch, all five family members rushed to their apartments to change into their plainest clothes (and, in the case of Aravis and Cari, to put up their hair), then headed down the southeast stairs to the kitchens. Castle tradition relegated the royal family members to helping the cooks bake what Corin called "Christmas cookies" there every year on the afternoon of Christmas Eve, and the boy had spent the past weeks regaling his siblings and Aravis with tales of what was clearly his favorite holiday tradition, apart from giving and receiving gifts.

After only a few minutes in the kitchen, Cari could see why Corin loved the Christmas baking so much. Chaos reigned from the start as the siblings enthusiastically beat eggs, whipped butter, pounded dough, and dusted countertops with flour – half of which seemed to end up in everybody's hair and faces. Not an hour into the baking, Cor and Corin got into a dough fight with leftover scraps from a batch of sugar cookies. While attempting to dodge one of Cor's projectiles, Aravis stepped into a stray patch of butter on the floor, and her feet promptly shot out from under her, sending her skidding into one of the tables. That got both twins a scolding from King Lune, although Aravis assured him she was fine. None of this, of course, stopped the twins from bursting into identical fits of laughter a few minutes later, when one of the servants, carrying a bowl of eggs around a table too quickly, tripped and sent the contents flying everywhere. At least three of the eggs hit the king full in the face, and one landed squarely on Cari's shoulder, splattering its contents over her dress and apron. She barely noticed this in the midst of gasping along with several of the servants, but King Lune's hearty bellows of laughter quickly drowned out his sons' and dispelled the boy's – and Cari's – momentary unease.

"I say, lad," he exclaimed as he clapped a hand on the servant's shoulder, "that's as fine a bit of target practice as I've seen in a year and more! If you should not become a champion at javelins within a few years' time, I shall be very surprised."

Corin's hoots of laughter became even louder at this, and most of the servants, who had been chuckling or at least grinning, joined him. Even Cari grinned in spite of herself.

Gradually, the cookies began churning out of the ovens in droves. This delighted the three siblings and Aravis, whose eagerness to sample the fruits of their labor had not been diminished by eating bits of dough throughout the afternoon. Cari immediately agreed with the others that, as a rule, the finished cookies were much better than the unfinished ones, although the nutmeg teacake dough had a peculiar appeal to it. Still, neither it nor any of the cookies could compete in Cari's estimation with the contents of the fudge tray. The merest shavings filled her mouth with bursts of walnuts, mint, cocoa, and myriad other delightful flavors that would have made days on end of kitchen accidents and Corin's antics worth the reward.

There was still plenty of dough to be pounded and shaped, however, and Cari found herself working hard alongside her father to get the last of it shaped and onto the trays as the servants began to expand their dinner preparations into the baking area. By the time they were through, King Lune had shown her how to form seven-pointed stars, in the process getting his face powdered over with flour that stuck to the egg residue. When all was said and done, he was sporting a few stray onion and carrot chunks from the nearby vegetable table as well. When he caught his reflection in a platter, he roared almost as loudly as he had at the accident with the eggs, and declared that he had never cooked anything so fine as the omelette on his face.

Though reluctant to peel herself away from the afternoon's adventures, Cari eventually followed her father and the others back upstairs to get ready for Anvard's traditional Christmas Eve dinner of venison-and-leek stew. For all of Corin's grumbling about how long it had taken for the food to be ready – to which Cor had answered that the servants had probably been slowed down by his twin terrorizing the kitchen for the entire afternoon – it was well worth the wait. The savory blend of herbs and spices infused the room – and Cari's tongue – with a most pleasant aroma, which blended with the tender bits of meat and the reedy texture of the leeks to produce a heavenly, delicious warmth that spread all the way to her toes.

After the mince-pies had been served and cleared, the king rose, pushing back his chair in decisive fashion. A hush immediately fell over the room.

"My friends," he announced in his booming voice, "tonight we celebrate Christmas Eve and the end of another prosperous year – a year especially full of rejoicing for Archenland at the return of our long-awaited prince and princess, as well as the addition to our family of the Lady Aravis," he added, beaming at Cor, Cari, and Aravis. "I ask you all to join with me in procession to the west hall as we celebrate Aslan's goodness to us in song."

Cari thanked her lucky stars that she had practiced all of her Christmas songs assiduously, for Archenlanders, as she had learned, did not consider singing done properly unless it lasted two hours or more. Neither did they consider it appropriate to use one's voice without some sort of instrumental accompaniment; a few dozen of the feast attendees, as well as many of the servants, had fetched everything ranging from brass piccolos to enormous oak harps adorned with gold, before entering the west hall. As Corin was quick to inform his siblings, the members of the motley group were accustomed to this arrangement, for they entertained the entire castle after the present fashion twice a year – once at Christmas and once at the spring festival in the fifth month. This much Cari knew from Lady Tammah and Lady Takiel, two of her ladies-in-waiting, for not long after arriving at Anvard, they had been asked to join the ensemble on account of their talents with the mountain lyre, an elongated stringed instrument pitched higher than the standard lyre. As they took their places among their fellow musicians, Lady Takiel waved at her, and she grinned back.

However, her smile turned to shock as she noticed a very familiar face a few feet to the right of Lady Tammah. Lips pursed over a silver flute stood Mara, her face a study in concentration as she flexed her fingers over the tiny holes.

_So that's what Maria meant by "I think my mum will have a very nice surprise for you later," _thought Cari once she had recovered somewhat from her amazement. _I had no idea Mara could play the flute – let alone that she ever had time to practice on it!_

But Mara appeared to be very much in practice, as did the rest of the group, who judging by the ease of their chatter and the understanding looks that passed among them, were more than accustomed to their long-standing arrangement – one which also included Mistress Meradee, the siblings' music teacher, at the head conducting them all. Indeed, half the time Cari nearly forgot to sing, so intently was she listening to distinguish the sounds of Mara's flute, as well as Lady Tammah's and Lady Takiel's lyres, from the rest. Since the vocal accompaniment from the rest of the hall's occupants was so vigorous – King Lune's booming baritone stood out particularly – this did not particularly matter, and neither did the fact that Cor and Aravis had apparently managed to forget most of the songs' words between them. From jolly whistling-tunes to sweet serenades and soaring elegies, the musicians wove a net of melody and harmony that encompassed the entire hall with its enchantment, one that no lyrical mishaps could break.

After about two hours had passed, the musicians, as if in answer to a silent signal, set down their instruments, and a sweeping hush passed over the room. About a dozen of the servants, who had departed during one of the previous songs, streamed in through the doors carrying wooden boxes, which turned out to be full of white candles, each a bit longer than Cari's hand in height. The room's inhabitants quietly passed the boxes around, each taking a candle out before giving the container to the next person. As the boxes made their way around the room, two or three more servants entered, bearing lighted lamps. With these they approached several of those who already had candles, and lit them. The bearers of the now-burning candles then turned to their neighbors and did the same for them, and so on until the entire room was dark (several of the candle-bearing servants had extinguished the room's regular lamps in the meantime) except for the tiny flames. Cari, who had not been able to suppress a shudder as her own candle was lit, had to work to keep her unease in check as she tried to look at anything but the candles. However, as she glanced over at Corin, her eye accidentally caught his flame full-on. Even as she averted her eyes, however, she could not help but notice that it was almost pure white, and had a golden heart instead of a black one. Unable to control her curiosity, she peeked again.

_Sure enough, it's not orange in the least…or black. Better than bad, although I'll be lucky not to drop it and start the whole room burning._

But Cari did not set the room on fire. In fact, what happened next almost removed the flames from her mind completely. In the middle of the room, Mistress Meradee broke the silence by singing a long, clear note. Not a second in, she was joined by…_Is that Mariel and Maria's brother Marcellus? So it is – I never knew he could sing like that! I suppose he inherited some of Mara's musical talent._

So Marcellus apparently had, for his voice combined seamlessly with Mistress Meradee's to begin the final song of the night, one with a poignant, lyrical melody that soared beyond the room, out past the castle itself and into the starry night. Even more than the song sung by the merpeople on the eve of the Narnian summer festival, this one raised the hairs on the backs of Cari's arms and neck. As melody and harmony united in the final series of notes, she realized she had not sung one word for listening so intently.

_Not that I could have sung anyway, _she thought as she headed upstairs to bed. _I had too large a lump in my throat._

The next morning, Cari was awakened abominably early by a loud crash on her bedroom floor. Even as she sat up and reached for her bedside lamp and the pinewood matches next to it, she heard Corin's disgusted muttering at the foot of her bed.

"Corin, what on _earth _are you doing in here?" she exclaimed, lighting the lamp and holding it out to reveal her brother sprawled on the floor. This caused her to laugh so hard she nearly dropped the lamp, which only made her brother's face a darker red than the radish-like shade she guessed it had attained already.

"I was just trying to wake you up – _ow_," he mumbled, holding his right side.

"Well accomplished, then," his sister answered, "if you sincerely want to get me up at – oh, for heaven's sake, Corin, it can't be six o'clock yet!"

"No, but it's Christmas," her brother protested, slowly beginning to haul himself back up along the end of the bed. "Father and I always get up early – well, I always get him up early, that is – and I just thought I'd get started a bit earlier this year, since there are more of you to wake up, and – "

At this point, however, Corin was interrupted by Mara bustling in through one door at the same time Cor burst in through the other.

"Princess Cari, what's going on?" queried the servant, even as Cor rounded on his brother, who, startled, had immediately fallen back to the floor in a heap. This turned whatever angry words Cor had had for his twin into howls of laughter.

"Ha, ha! I didn't even have to knock you down – well done, Cari!" he exclaimed once he could speak. This made the hue of Corin's face get dangerously close to purple.

"Cari did _not _knock me down!" he protested, getting up again. "It was her blasted bed – it's farther from the wall than yours, so when I jumped I should have landed on it, but I just hit the side and fell down instead – "

Cor burst into another fit of laughter; even Mara was smiling as she shook her head.

"Cari, what's the matter?" All three siblings turned to see a yawning Aravis enter the room through the side door, holding a lamp and wearily pushing her hair back from her face. But before any of the others could answer her, they were interrupted once again, this time by a knock on the side of the chamber's open front door and the voice of King Lune.

"Ah, Carisa, a happy Christmas morning to you," he greeted his daughter, beaming, then sternly turned to face his younger son. "I suppose you are awake at this hour because your brother thought it fit to rudely awaken you?"

Corin, somewhat abashed, bit his tongue, but Cor grinned broadly.

"Oh, don't worry, Father," he said. "She paid him back for it."

"It was the _bed_," Corin corrected him again, clutching his right knee. "I told you it's set up completely wrong."

The king's previous smile reappeared. "Ah, and so you should expect when you decide to surprise your siblings in the dark," he said. "Perhaps you should be thankful that you only had a few bruises out of the bargain." Turning again to Cari and Aravis, he asked, "Would you girls prefer more sleep before we open our gifts, then?"

Corin opened his mouth in horror, but Cari cut him off. "No, thank you, Father," she answered. "I'm rather completely awake now."

"As am I," put in Aravis, as the king raised his eyebrow questioningly in her direction. _Ha. By the looks of her, she would have been perfectly happy to let Corin stew for a few more minutes. Maybe next time…_

Another quarter of an hour found the entire family in the solar, huddled in blankets due to the fact that the fire had only just been lit. Corin ended up with the thinnest one, but apart from throwing a dirty look at his twin, he did not complain. In any case, the gift-opening erased his need to do so, for he and the others alike received plenty of wonderful gifts from King Lune and each other. Cari received a crimson-and-gold hair brooch from Aravis, as well as a matching bracelet from the twins. King Lune presented her with a fine, sharp throwing dagger, its hilt intricately carved into the shape of a vine flush with enameled Archenlandic blue lilies.

It was watching the others open her gifts, however, that provided Cari with the greatest joy. Cor and Corin immediately donned their tunics over their nightclothes, each proclaiming himself the more handsome; King Lune made just as much ado over his robe and slippers, which he immediately proclaimed the most comfortable pair he had ever owned. Aravis did not say much other than "Thank you, Cari," when she freed her mantle from its wrappings, but her eyes glowed as she traced the gold-threaded lining with her fingers.

Later, all of the family members returned to their apartments, where Cari presented Mara, Maria, Soren, and Theodore with their gifts. Maria squealed with delight and threw her arms around Cari when she opened her hair brooch. She quickly stepped back and apologized for startling her mistress, but Cari only smiled and assured her that she was happy as long as Maria liked her gift.

"Oh – and I have one for you, too, of course," said the younger girl, fastening the brooch into place. "I'm sorry I didn't remember it before – but here – " she reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a tiny package wrapped in the coarse cotton fabric the servants used for their gifts – "Merry Christmas, Princess Cari!"

"From our entire family," added Mara from behind her.

Cari was nearly too surprised to take the gift from the younger girl. _Oh, for heaven's sake – I hope it isn't anything too much! They shouldn't have felt obligated to give me a gift as it is._ However, she managed to collect herself and peel the coverings off of a dainty, perfectly carved wooden violet dangling from a delicate silver chain. The flower was even painted, and so beautifully that Cari was afraid to touch it for fear she might mar it somehow.

Cari raised her head. "Thank you so much – to all of you," she added, her eyes shining. "You did not have to go to so much trouble on my account."

"Oh, it wasn't any trouble," piped up Maria. "Father's ever so good at carving wood, and Mariel and I have been able to paint his works since we were little. And if you ever get bored of looking at it, you can twist the petals, and it becomes a heart pendant instead." Seeing Cari's amazement, she held out her hand and asked, "Here, would you like me to show you?"

Cari handed the necklace over without a second thought, and sure enough, it was just as the girl had said. _I wonder how many hours it took Marek to make this. I shall have to find him and thank him personally. Now I feel bad that I didn't get anything for him or Marcus or Marcellus or Mariel, even though I'm sure Father, Corin, and Cor were perfectly generous, as I know Aravis was with Mariel._

When she visited her brothers' chambers later that morning, Cari discovered that, indeed, the twins had given Maria's brothers new gloves, which helped assuage much of her guilt. Still, over lunch, which included many of the cookies she and her family had helped make the previous day, she kept an especially sharp eye out for Marek. When she spotted him sporting a brand-new pair of fine leather shoes, she thanked him profusely.

"You are very welcome, Princess," replied the man in a quiet but stone-steady voice as he graced her with a smile. _Probably because I stumbled over a simple phrase like "thank you," _ Cari decided a few moments later, as she turned to polish off a piece of fudge. _Perhaps in a decade or so, I'll stop getting so flustered over speaking to people I barely know._

That afternoon, King Lune joined Cari and the others in a rollicking snowball fight on the back lawn. Without a heavy load of school work and dancing lessons to worry about, Cari found herself enjoying the activity immensely, even after a stray shot from Aravis became the fourth snowball to hit her in the face in less than two hours.

Gradually, the sky darkened, and the family trooped back indoors. About an hour later, they descended the main staircase together – all dressed in new clothes, as it was customary for the members of the royal family to do for each year's Christmas feast. Cari spent most of the trip into the great hall worrying about spilling food onto her new gown, a lovely creation of cream and dark rose velvet, but that particular train of thought ceased at once when she saw the hall. The servants had transformed it since the previous day – and spent a goodly number of hours at the task, in Cari's estimation – into a place of scintillating magnificence. The tables were draped with pure white cloths of the finest linen, which in turn were topped with beribboned evergreen boughs and glimmering white candles, similar to the ones that had been used in the west hall the previous night but a good deal taller. Sprigs of holly adorned the wall sconces, along with yards of burgundy-colored ribbon, which was draped evenly from sconce to sconce and accompanied by broad panels of more white linen.

Cor's and Aravis's eyes widened every bit as much as Cari's as they took in the unfamiliar sight, but soon enough King Lune escorted them on to the king's table at the head of the hall, where the seating arrangements were similar to what they had been at the feast on the night Cari, Cor, and Aravis had first arrived in Archenland. However, Cari's hours of practice with Mistress Morenna since then had paid off wonderfully well; she dropped nothing and did not so much as hesitate over the wrong fork while enjoying the endless supply of boar meat, venison, steamed vegetables, roasted red-and-brown potatoes, and more types of bread, jam, and cheese than she could count. Not, she realized, that a mistake or two would have mattered; all of the diners seemed to be in especially high spirits, and King Lune spent most of the meal cracking jokes with Chancellor Velmont. His sons, meanwhile, tucked in with gusto, and did not groan in the least when Aravis reminded them that dessert was yet to come.

_More like a grand feast of desserts,_ Cari thought as she watched the servants carry in tray after tray of mince pies, twice-baked puddings, trifles of all kinds, and the traditional Christmas cake, a dense, moist, brandy-sweetened affair topped with exceptionally sweet white icing.

Eventually even Cor and Corin seemed to have stuffed themselves nearly to bursting, and were oddly quiet for the half-hour or so that followed. Finally King Lune arose and led everyone into the west hall again, this time for a night of rollicking dances Cari was amazed she had the energy to complete.

_At least I've improved somewhat,_ she mused as she, Aravis, and the twins, all yawning profusely, climbed the stairs to go to bed. _I hardly stepped on anybody's toes this time._

The following day, the entire family slept in, and the three siblings and Aravis spent the entire afternoon playing games in the solar. That evening, King Lune announced that the Christmas letters from Narnia had arrived. One letter was addressed to the entire family from all four monarchs, and this the king read to all of them. Afterward he handed out the letters that were addressed individually.

Cari immediately ascended the staircase and took refuge in her study, where she eagerly broke the seal on her parchment to reveal a letter written in a nearly-perfect curving script, which, she decided after moment of reflection, must surely be Queen Susan's:

_From High King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy, by the gift of Aslan rulers of Narnia, to Princess Carisa of Archenland, greeting._

_Our most sincere wishes to you for a Merry Christmas and an excellent end to another year lived in the blessings of Aslan. We hope all is as well with you and your family as it is in Narnia, where Aslan has graced us with a bountiful harvest and a lovely winter season._

_Since your return to Archenland, we have been overjoyed to make your acquaintance. We greatly look forward to seeing you and your family this coming spring, on the occasion of your nineteenth birthday._

_May Aslan bless you richly and keep you safe from all harms until the day we meet again._

All four monarchs had signed the letter at the bottom, but Cari barely registered this detail in the face of the sudden reminder that her ball was just over two months away – which seemed monumentally closer now that Christmas had passed – which meant that she would be dancing with not only King Peter and King Edmund, but, as Mistress Shona had informed her, several other foreign dignitaries as well.

Cari took a deep breath. _Right. Time for lots of extra practicing, even if I have to do all of it with Cor and Corin. I will _not _attend my own ball dancing like – how did those girls at Cair Paravel put it? – "Princess Clumsy." Besides, it shouldn't be all torture; I will, after all, be seeing Queen Susan and Queen Lucy again – and they, at least, won't mind much even if I do step on a toe here or there. _A smile spread across her face of its own accord._ And Queen Lucy, at any rate, will probably say I did wonderfully well even if I flub every other step. She could look at a dirty cloak full of holes and point out what a lovely color the maker chose for its fabric._

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you so much again for sticking with this story – and a special thanks to those of you who reviewed the last chapter! I love your feedback and will always welcome more.**


	31. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Not long after Christmas, a letter arrived from Lord Aren and Lady Lina announcing the birth of their new grandson, whom his parents, true to Kenna's word, had named Aren for his grandfather.

Cari grinned as her father read the letter to his children and Aravis. _So Kenna was right after all. I'm sure Derick is thrilled to have a son. _

After finishing the letter, King Lune reminded his listeners that it was their duty to compose replies to the announcement. This elicited some grumbling from the twins after their father was out of earshot, but Cari was mildly glad of the opportunity to practice more diplomatic letter composition, and very pleased when she found the task considerably less difficult than her Christmas letter to the Narnian monarchs. _I suppose this would be easier, though, seeing as it's for relatives – Kenna especially. I think she will be glad of my congratulations even if the letter is written a bit awkwardly._

However, Master Sofer, Cari's diplomacy and writing instructor, approved of the finished product with two minor revisions, as did King Lune. Though not thrilled that she had failed to meet their standards on her first try, Cari diligently made the changes and submitted the letter to her father, determining to try all the harder the next time.

That time arrived sooner than Cari had anticipated, for about a month later, another delivery arrived from Cair Paravel carrying more letters from the monarchs. This time, Cari – and each member of her family – received an individual letter from each of the kings and queens. In her case, King Peter's and King Edmund's missives were pleasant but brief. However, the queens' were both lengthier and full of friendly allusions to everything from dice-bowls to their regret over not seeing her at the Narnian Midwinter festival, and their consequent eagerness to see her at her birthday ball the following month.

_Oh, blast it. Next month already? I had best make double my usual progress in lessons for the next few weeks._ Cari sighed. _Well, at least I've learned and practiced enough to know how to reply to these letters properly – I think. Yes, I'd rather do that at the moment than more tax charts for Master Alaric's economics lessons._

Cari's letters took a good deal longer to write than had her previous Christmas greeting, but she took less time on each one individually – even on the queens' letters, which were much longer than the kings' – and it pleased her quite a bit. _I still take too long, but progress is progress,_ she mused, screwing the cap back onto her inkwell and encasing the letters in a parchment packet to be shown to her father and Master Sofer for approval the following morning. _I even have a bit of time left to finish reading that Telmarine history book Master Dorian wanted me to finish by the day after tomorrow. Heavens only know I'll need the extra time – and probably more – for whatever book he throws at me next._

Master Dorian did indeed have another book to add to the seemingly endless pile of assigned texts that filled all of Cari's days and most of her evenings. Even though she normally loved her studies, she found herself ever more grateful as the year's second month dragged on for her dress-fitting sessions with the seamstresses. To her delight, these had recently been supplemented by meetings with the castle jewelers, who had been entrusted with the task of designing and creating the signet ring Cari, like all of Archenland's royal children before her, would receive for her nineteenth birthday and use in her official correspondence until she married. She found the jewelers remarkably creative, considering the fact that they had been required to incorporate Archenland's famous blue lilies in a unique design for every signet ring they created, and was very pleased with the final drawings they made of hers – and even more pleased that they had given her time away from her studies.

_I suppose I can't fault Corin and Cor so much,_ she mused one evening in the solar as she witnessed an especially sharp argument between the twins over a game of Jump-Crystals, which came at the end of a few days when both had been at each other's throats almost constantly. _Between this infernally cold weather and Master Dorian's study expectations, they've had very little opportunity to do anything but school work, and that sort of thing is getting very old for me – and I actually like school work. I'm sure it's much worse for them. _She sighed as she turned to the next page of the book she was reading, even as Corin threatened to knock Cor down for the fifth time that day. _I wish it would hurry up and get warmer so they can at least take their disagreements outside, though. I'd rather they not tip over and smash the contents of yet another table with their fighting._

Just as Corin stood up, presumably to make good on his threat, Aravis – whose normally dependable temperament had also taken a turn for the worse along with the weather – entered the room and sharply asked both boys if it was too difficult to keep from acting like small children for one hour. Cor immediately rounded on her and asked her how she would like it if her brother kept trying to beat her at a game by circumventing the rules, which only made Corin angrier. Cari opened her mouth to tell all of them to act their ages, then thought better of it and swept out of the room. _At least it's quieter in my quarters. The extra light in this room isn't nearly worth the noise._

Fortunately for them all, the last week of the new year's second month brought more sunlight and warmer temperatures; the snow even began melting in spots. The siblings and Aravis wasted no time in heading outdoors for a few final snowball fights; the warmer weather, with its slight melting effect, had made the snow perfect for the activity. One afternoon the servant children's master, no doubt having suffered enough of his pupils' cooped-up restlessness over the past month, let them off their lessons early, and they joined the siblings and Aravis for a grand reprise of the previous autumn's match. Many of the former game's participants were on hand, and Tobin and Corin once again served as captains. However, this time Tobin won the coin toss and promptly chose Cari as his first teammate. After an exceptionally close contest eventually won by Tobin's team, Corin, after a bit of well-acted pouting, teased his friend that he had only won because he had gotten to Cari first. Cari, a few feet away from the two boys, blushed beet-red.

Even had the weather permitted, however, she could not have participated in any snowball fights after that, for over the next two weeks she was swept up in a flurry of final gown fittings in addition to her heavy load of school work. When not being draped and measured into her gown – which she could not see because of the blindfold she donned for each fitting, as, like all of Archenland's princesses before her, she would not see the gown until the day before the ball – she was hunched over any one of a large number of books in her study or scribbling notes on bits of parchment. The one exception to this rule was Mistress Morenna's training, which required Cari to know the protocols of greeting and conversing with dignitaries from several different nations so that she could properly welcome all of the guests scheduled to attend the ball. This required Cari to know at least eight different types of curtsies, as well as countless variations on each nation's preferred greetings according to the rank of the person she was addressing. It also meant that she spent a good deal of time in front of both her bedroom mirror and the protocol mistress, who proved relentless in her impersonations of various foreign dignitaries – all of whom, at least in her mind, were apparently quite easily offended by small mistakes. She also practiced endlessly, in front of both Mistress Morenna and the list she had kept herself of the names and ranks of all of the ball's invitees, the correct pronunciations of each name. After countless mistakes, however, during the last three sessions before the ball, Cari performed flawlessly, surprising even herself and delighting her demanding teacher. At the end of the last session, which occurred on the day before Cari's birthday, Mistress Morenna finally proclaimed her fully prepared to go through the ball with no deficiencies whatsoever.

_I wish Mistress Shona would say that,_ Cari moaned inwardly after her final pre-ball session with the dance mistress, who had spent the last few months teaching her pupils some of the more well-known dances from the nations that would be represented at the ball. These King Lune had decided to include in the schedule for that night to please the guests, although they certainly pleased none of the siblings. Even Aravis had had trouble with some of the steps, and Cari found them an out-and-out nightmare at first. She had made leaps and bounds' worth of progress, but still hesitated occasionally mid-dance to remember which step came next. _Oh, well, at least I haven't stepped on anybody's toes during the past two sessions. Still – learning the northern dances was bad enough, let alone all of these. And I _really _wish we hadn't had to learn any of the Calormene ones. I don't care what Father says about it being tradition to invite Tarkaans to the birthday ball, and that he'd rather keep an eye on Calormen and the Tisroc by interacting with a Calormene guest than have no idea of what they're up to and offend them to boot, and that Sarmad Tarkaan had no part in the attack on Anvard. Not that any of it is without merit – I just despise most of the Calormene dances, and the less I have to think about Calormen, the better._

Cari's nineteenth birthday dawned sunny and unusually warm. Maria fairly squealed, "Happy birthday, Princess Cari!" as soon as the older girl had reached consciousness.

Cari sat up, startled and still blinking the sleep out of her eyes. _Oh, right. I suppose it is my birthday, after all._ "Thank you very much, Maria," she managed after a few moments.

"Maria, not so loud," admonished Mara gently as she set Cari's washbasin on its stand beside her bed. Maria's cheeks grew pink as her mother turned to the older girl. "A very happy birthday to you, Princess."

Cari, now more fully awake, smiled widely. "Thank you, Mara."

Maria's enthusiasm proved a blessing, for no sooner had Cari reached the landing at the top of the staircase to the breakfast room than she was greeted by whoops and hollers from both twins, who had come barreling out of their apartments to meet her.

"It's a birthday, it's a birthday, it's a grand old day for fun – " began Corin, and off they both dashed into what Cari quickly recognized as a re-wording of a very energetic song originally meant to teach children which household tasks to do on each day of the week, and later sung in a different by certain of the servant boys to reflect all sorts of mischief, each growing more ridiculous as the song neared its end.

"Oh, for heaven's _sake_, Corin – " began Cari, who had heard her brothers sing the song on a few other occasions on some of the servants' birthdays and had hoped to avoid ever having it addressed to her. Quickly realizing it was no use, though, she shook her head and allowed herself to be noisily frog-marched down the stairs, with Aravis trailing after them all and rolling her eyes as the boys sang about everything from filling the fireplaces with ice to drenching all the statues in the castle with paint and silverware polish.

_Oh, we shall smash the windows on a birthday night, _

_As on the mirrors with our boots we tread,_

_Make the cistern-pits our dumping site,_

_And never, ever go to bed!_

finished both boys at the tops of their lungs as they entered the breakfast room. Corin topped off the melody with a very loud whistle aided by his left thumb and forefinger. He would have done another, thought Cari, but for the fact that King Lune chose that very moment to join his family. Corin immediately dropped his hand and put on his most innocent smile.

"I am sure your sister thanks you both for the lovely birthday greeting," the king told his sons, raising his eyebrows. "At least she shall have the pleasure of foregoing the entertainment while you are at lessons and she is not."

Both boys reacted with groans of protest, but King Lune paid them no heed, engulfing Cari in a fierce embrace. "Happy birthday, my daughter," he greeted her, then gently held her by the shoulders as he pulled back. "My _beautiful_, nineteen-year-old daughter," he added, his eyes shining.

"Thank you, Father," Cari answered, beaming. _Funny – I've rather grown accustomed to his hugs now that I understand he means so well by them._

"Happy birthday, Cari," said Aravis, looking relieved to finally get a word in edgewise.

Cari grinned. "Thank you, Aravis."

Breakfast was Cari's favorite – bread slices fried in egg-and-cinnamon batter, topped with maple syrup, as well as scrambled eggs with cheese and fruit from the castle's root cellars. Afterwards, King Lune pulled her aside as her siblings headed to their lessons.

"I know it is the custom to wait until after lunch for giving gifts," he said, an odd sheen of moisture in his eyes, "but I believe an exception can be made in this case." And he drew from the folds of his tunic a parchment letter wrapping sealed with the red wax reserved for the king and queen. Stamped into the wax was a cracked but still legible insignia bearing a vine of lilies entwined around the letter "C."

The realization struck Cari just as her father spoke again. "Your mother wrote this letter before she died and entrusted it to my care. She asked that I give it to you on your nineteenth birthday." His voice lowered softly as he added, "Please do not feel compelled to read it immediately, Cari. Your mother meant for you to do so only when you felt ready."

Swallowing a large lump in her throat, Cari nodded mutely. After several moments, she willed her hand to reach for the letter.

"Thank you very much, Father," she managed as he embraced her again.

Afterwards, Cari did not remember ascending the staircase to her apartments, or shutting and locking both doors into her study, or even gazing at her mother's seal for endless, uncountable moments. She only recalled gradually becoming aware of her impulse to open the letter, and of the answering desire to keep intact what her mother had sealed with her own hands.

Eventually, Cari decided on a solution that satisfied both wishes as nearly as possible. After quickly retrieving the dagger she kept in her night table for emergencies, she locked herself in her study again and went to work. Using the fine tip of the dagger, she gently applied just enough pressure to pry the seal off the letter intact, minus a shard off the top left side that had cracked all the way through already. She gently wrapped the precious pieces in a scrap of cloth she had grabbed along with the dagger and returned both items to her night table, having decided to encase it in glass later.

Back in the study, Cari found herself staring at the letter once again. Despite her desire to read it, she found herself oddly reluctant to touch it – whether for fear of damaging the paper or for some less easily explainable reason she could not decide.

_Mother did want me to read it, though, and I'm sure she meant for me to read it on my actual birthday,_ was the foremost thought in her mind. Without consciously deciding to obey it, she gently opened the parchment casing and drew out the letter. Taking great care so as not to tear the paper, she slowly unfolded it and smoothed it out with as little finger-to-paper contact as possible. The writing inside looked surprisingly unfaded and glided in thin, gentle loops across the parchment, the elongated letters spaced unusually close to each other. Without consciously trying to, she noticed the date at the top – _28 Oakflame 1005_. This made her smile ever so slightly; her mother had clearly intended the letter to be a personal one, as she had used the colloquial month naming system, instead of the formal arrangement consisting of numbers only that was used at court and for all official records and most correspondence.

Then the full import of the date sank in, causing Cari to gasp. _She wrote the letter the day before she died,_ she realized. _And she was ill for a time before that; she had to have known she was dying by then._ Biting her lower lip to stave off tears, she carefully re-folded the letter and returned it to its casing. _If I read it now, I will probably cry, or not be able to stop re-reading it, or otherwise get so upset I won't be able to give Father and everyone else the gratitude they deserve for trying to make this such a happy day for me. The least I can do is not spoil it for them._

After a light lunch in the breakfast room, Cari and her family headed into the great hall, where she spent the next hour opening gifts from what seemed like every inhabitant in the castle twice over. By the time she had finished opening them all, the gifts took up nearly all of one of the room's massive tables. They included a lovely jewel box made of colored glass and gem-studded enameling from Aravis and the twins; a beautifully carved writing desk, complete with a top that had built-in stands for inkwells, quills, and spare pieces of parchment, from her ladies-in-waiting; a fine set of matching quills and inkwells from her schoolmasters; and a lily-carved pewter contraption that looked like a very thin ruler, but with part of the middle cut out, a prong inserted in its place, and a glass bead-studded ribbon threaded through a hole in the top, from Mara's family. Cari had to stare at it for several seconds to figure out that it was meant as a bookmark.

Best of all, however, was King Lune's gift, which he kept for last. Cari gently pulled back the linen wrappings to reveal a small, blue-leather-bound book with a tapestry inset depicting a young man kneeling on the shore of a foaming river. A golden crown and helmet lay beside him. At the very edge of the picture, at the top of the starry night sky, shone the glimmering outline of a Lion's face. Recognizing the depiction at once, Cari reverently opened the book to its first page, which bore the inscription: _The Lay of Arbior_.

Cari barely registered the handwritten note on the inside of the book's front cover before she looked up to thank her father with shining eyes.

"You are most welcome, Cari," the king answered warmly before adding, "I hope it is a work you will like. Master Dorian has spoken of your interest in this particular story."

Master Dorian beamed. "And your father insisted on helping bind it himself."

Cari glanced in amazement at her father, who waved off the compliment. "A trifle. Others did much more work on it than I."

Cari turned to the three castle scribes whom she knew would have handled the remainder of the task. "Thank you so much," she told them. "You have done beautiful work."

After they had nodded deferentially and protested that the task had been a joy for them, Cari turned back to King Lune. "Father, really, thank you so much," she said. "It's – it's almost too much, really."

The king's eyes took on the same sheen they had that morning when he had given Cari her mother's letter. "Not too much for you, my daughter," he finally replied.

Later that afternoon, Cari went to retrieve her new signet ring from the castle jewelers. The finished creation was even lovelier than the design sketches she had seen, and unbelievably intricate in its detailing. Cari thanked the makers profusely and carefully carried the ring in its blue velvet box up the stairs to her quarters. With a trembling hand, she removed the ring and slid it onto her right ring finger before descending the staircase to show it to her father, who also praised the jewelers' work. "They could not have done better for a more deserving wearer," he said, beaming, as he stooped to kiss his daughter's forehead.

After a quick stop to see the bookkeeper, whom she asked to pay the jewelers an extra crown each from her purse over what her father had paid them for the ring, Cari returned to her apartments, where she spent much of the afternoon engrossed in her new book. The language and meter of the poem were still difficult to understand, though not as impossible as they had been eight months previously, when she had first encountered Cair Paravel's copy of the Lay while visiting Narnia. Fortunately, this time she had in her possession a guide to poetic literature of the sixth century, which helped make the going a good deal smoother.

Dinner was served in the great hall and consisted of many of Cari's favorite foods – fresh noodle dough stuffed with meats and cheeses, then cooked immediately before being served with garlic sauce and tomatoes; steamed vegetables with dried herbs; warm bread served with butter, cheese, and blackberry preserves; and, for dessert, a frosted, multilayered chocolate cake adorned with roses made of pink and green icing, accompanied by ice cream churned twice over especially for the occasion. Both twins declared it a capital feast, and Corin went so far as to say that he would be willing to withstand the drudgery of having to give his sister presents every day, if it meant getting such a banquet in return. This earned him two spectacular eyerolls from Aravis and Cari, as well as an under-the-table elbowing from Cor.

After dinner, the family adjourned to the solar to play all of Cari's favorite games, until even Corin began yawning and King Lune reminded them all that they would be receiving most of the ball's attending dignitaries the following day, so they had best prepare with a good night's rest. This relieved Cari, whose mind had clearly not been fully engaged in the games at any rate; Cor and Corin had each had to snap their fingers in front of her face more than once to get her attention.

Cari headed upstairs after a round of "Good night"s and "Happy birthday, Cari"s, but felt oddly wakeful, even after changing into her nightclothes. Pulling open a drawer in her night table, she withdrew her mother's letter and once again locked herself in her study. Removing the letter from its parchment casing, she slowly and carefully smoothed it out and, after a deep breath or two, began to read.

_28 Oakflame 1005_

_My beautiful Carisa,_

_Happy nineteenth birthday, my beloved daughter. As I write this letter, you are nearing your fifteenth birthday; if you read it four years and a bit hence, one of my dearest prayers to Aslan has been answered, and you (and, I also pray, your brother Cor) have arrived safely home in Archenland. _

_Since I could not be here to greet you in person, I leave this letter to let you know how very much I love you. You are my first-born child, and I shall take to Aslan's country the thrill of joy I felt when I first looked into your eyes, just seconds after your birth. Nor shall I ever cease to thank Him for allowing me to witness your first step, your first word, the first day you wrote your own name, and all the four years full of memories I treasure every day about you. Whenever I see your play room, your favorite doll, or the eagle statue you always hid behind in the bower, I think of those memories, and of the lovely young woman you are growing into, and I am able to face my grief over having lost you so soon. All these years later, I cannot yet pass a day without thinking of you, without wondering where you are, and to whose care Aslan has given you, and what you and your brother look like now. But I remember my hope that you live, and that you may one day return to your country and your family, and I know that for all things Aslan has a reason and a purpose. Should I never see you again on this earth, I will still go to the Lion's country, as my present illness makes me sure I shall very soon, praising Him for the four years He gave me with you._

_Although I regret that I cannot be here for it, I shall also give Aslan thanks for this day, when you assume your role as a Princess of Archenland entrusted with the power to represent your father and your nation to the rest of the world. That you have the abilities to do so with excellence, I doubt not; you have always shown exceptional intelligence, and after you return to Archenland I know that your father will provide you with the best possible education. That you have the desire to do all of it, I earnestly hope. Most of all, however, I pray that in all of your duties, throughout all of the difficult decisions and circumstances that lie ahead of you, you can find the courage and the humility to put your trust in Aslan above all others, and to follow His lead even – and especially – in the darkest of hours when you can see no light at all. It is then, as I have learned by journeying through the storms and shadows of my own life, that He is nearest to you. Should you receive no other aid, no other relief from any around you, His strength will be sufficient to bolster you in your greatest weakness. Know this – do this – and you shall have all you need, whether in life or in death, for even death will only bring you into His presence and an eternity of joy. _

_In the hope that I will see you again on such a day, I bid you farewell for the time being, my beloved daughter. May Aslan bless you and keep you and bring you peace. Never forget how much I have loved you, and never forget that He loves you unfathomably more._

_With all my love,_

_Mother_

Even as she read her mother's greeting, Cari's eyes had begun to water; by the time she finished the letter, her nightgown was damp from all of the tears she had wiped onto it from her right hand, which she had used to catch them so as not to mar the treasure in front of her.

_But I never got the chance to bid you farewell, Mother,_ she all but cried out. _I can't remember you the way you could remember me – I don't have any memories of you at all! If Aslan was so determined to take you away, could He not at least have let me remember you? Better yet, couldn't He have saved you from your illness? If He could save King Arbior's army from their enemies, and all of Archenland and Narnia from the Flame Sorcerer and his firebirds, why couldn't He heal you? Why didn't He heal you?_

But even though Cari sat drinking in her mother's words through her tears for uncounted minutes – it could have been hours, even – no answer occurred to these or any of the other unnumbered questions churning through her mind. Only the dying flickers of the study lamps roused her from her chair long enough to reverently replace the letter in its parchment, stow it safely away in her night table, and burrow into bed, where her pillow served the purpose her nightgown no longer could.

Cari woke dry-eyed and weary the next morning, not to mention much earlier than usual. After about half an hour of tossing and turning, she finally decided it was no use. Donning her robe, she went to the mirror and tried to get some last-minute practice in on the various curtsies she would surely use that day; however, this did nothing to quell her nerves, which were not helped by the thought that she looked rather a mess. Sighing heavily, she pulled the robe closer around herself and tiptoed down the stairs and through the halls to her mother's wedding tapestry. Realizing she had not brought the letter with her, she thought about going back but decided against it. _I don't think I could bear to put it aside if I read it again right now, anyway._

Sinking to the floor, Cari assumed her customary position in front of the tapestry, her legs crossed and her knees drawn up to her chin, with her arms buffering the two. Unconsciously, she reached up and lightly rubbed her left earlobe.

_Good morning, Mother, _she silently greeted the picture. _Thank you a thousand times over for the letter. I'm glad I read it. I'd be much more glad if you were here, though, especially today. You see, I feel as though I'm sure to accidentally use the right curtsey on the wrong duke, or trip and fall at the Telmarine prince's feet, or otherwise do something stupid – or likely more than one something. I have been trying so hard to make you and Father proud, and of course I'll try even harder today, but, see, if I had you here, I don't think I'd worry so much. According to Father, you were always so good at calming people down who were upset somehow. Oh, blast it, that sounds so selfish; of course I would still expect myself to behave such as to please you. I still do, in fact. I just wish you could be right here to let me know I'm pleasing you. _She looked straight up into her mother's blue eyes, which shimmered with joy even when depicted in cloth. _If Father is right, and you really are in Aslan's country, and you really can see me today – I hope you know how dearly I want to make you happy. I hope that somehow, in spite of myself, I do make you happy._

Here, however, Cari's thoughts were interrupted by a soft padding noise directly behind her. Startled, she whirled around as best she could, and found herself face to face with Cor.

"Morning, Cari," he greeted her, one corner of his mouth tipped up in a knowing smile. "I figured you'd be here."

Cari rewarded him with a slight tilt of her head and half a knowing smile. _You would._

Her brother plopped down beside her, resting his chin on his knees.

"You'll do all right, you know," he said after several minutes. Seeing the subtle rise of Cari's eyebrows, he added, "She'd probably say the same thing if she were here. She probably _is _saying the same thing – just from Aslan's country, is all."

This brought Cari's right eyebrow all the way up. "From Aslan's country?"

Cor nodded at once and a bit quizzically. "Of course. That's where she is now, after all."

_Well, this is just lovely. Apparently I'm the only one out of us all who still really doesn't know what to think about it. _All she said aloud, however, was, "I suppose."

Cor raised his eyebrows at this, but even as he opened his mouth to answer Cari, the sound of footfalls close by caused both siblings to turn around and face Corin.

"Oh – sorry," he said, but before he could turn away, Cari quickly cut off his retreat. "Really, Corin, it's fine." Nodding gently toward the tapestry, she added, "I don't think Mother minds."

The boy shrugged indecisively, but after a moment planted himself on the floor in much the same manner as his brother had.

"She used to remind me whenever it was your birthday," he informed Cari, his cheeks warming slightly. "I should have told you that yesterday, but I kept forgetting until you were gone."

Cari smiled, understanding. "No, Corin, it's all right."

She was both surprised and gratified when he continued. "She would always have the stuffed noodles served for dinner, too, like last night. She said they were your favorite before you left."

_They were?_ Cari was about to reply in spite of herself, but a third set of footsteps interrupted her, and proved in short order to belong to Aravis.

"Oh – good morning," she managed, clearly not having expected to find all three siblings in front of the tapestry at once. She turned to Cari then. "You were not in your apartments, Cari, or in the library, so I thought I'd come here, but – " She swept her right hand in the twins' direction. "I am sorry for interrupting you."

Cari shook her head. "Oh, no, Aravis, you're not."

The younger girl bit her lip, hesitating to join the other three, until Cor put in, "Really, you're not. After all, Corin was technically done speaking."

This earned him a sharp look from Cari, but got Aravis to twist her lips in what might have been half a smile, and she sat cross-legged a bit farther away from the other three.

"Back already from the morning jaunt, Aravis?" It was Cor who spoke up first; all three siblings, however, were familiar with Aravis's ritual of making a full circuit around the castle grounds every morning, as she was by far the fondest of the four of rising early. "Wait – it isn't snowing out again, is it? I thought it was supposed to be warm again."

Aravis shook her head. "No, it looks to be warm again." She paused before adding, "I came in early to – " she turned to face the older girl directly – "to tell Cari I am sure everyone here will do his best to help the guests arrive smoothly." She glanced at Corin, but for once he did not seem to notice her allusion.

"You know," Aravis continued, turning back to Cari and lowering her voice, "that every guest who arrives today has the better fortune to meet you, and – not the other way around. Any of them who would say otherwise is a fool."

She ended with a stilted shrug of one shoulder, but Cari understood, and she blinked hard to erase the moisture that had suddenly gathered in her eyes.

"That's what I've been trying to tell her Mum would say," put in Cor, breaking the awkward pause, "even if Corin says otherwise."

That brought Corin out of his uncharacteristic reverie. "I do not, either," he protested, his cheeks reddening. "And anyway, if any of the guests has a go at Cari, I'll knock him down."

Cor emitted a melodramatic gasp of disbelief. "Really? You, Corin?"

Aravis burst into laughter at this, breaking the tension altogether. "I believe you're a bit outnumbered, Cari," she said, "not to mention well aided." She tilted her head in the direction of Corin, who had just aimed a shove at Cor. The older boy dodged him, though, and Corin's momentum carried him sprawling to the floor, causing even himself, along with Cari and Cor, to join in Aravis's laughter.

"You know, Aravis," Cari addressed the younger girl as they made their way upstairs to the breakfast room, "I think my mother would have said the same thing – about our guests being fortunate to meet you, you know."

Aravis's mouth twisted, and her eyes softened; Cari could have sworn they even moistened a bit. "Perhaps she would," she conceded, "but you are, after all, the one they are coming to meet."

Cari smiled weakly. _As if I could forget. _"I'm sure they will be delighted to see you as well, Aravis."

Cari covered her fatigue and nerves fairly well at first, drinking extra tea at breakfast so as not to yawn as much as she wanted. The castle scouts had reported that the Narnians, who were the nearest party along the road to Anvard, were yet an hour from their destination, so she was able to rush to the seamstresses' quarters for her final ball gown fitting before commencing with the day's duties. For the first time, she was allowed to see the dress, and her delight momentarily relegated the previous night's sorrows and the present day's worries to the back of her mind.

"Oh, no, I love it!" she exclaimed after the seamstresses had deluged her with any number of variations on, "Do you like it, Princess Cari?" "You have all done excellent work; it fits me perfectly. And I really love the brocading," she added, sweeping one hand over the skirt, the sides and bottom of which were swept back to reveal the richly gilded blue, gold, and bronze cloth that had seized her eye back during the fabric selecting session. _It looks even lovelier now than it did on the bolt. I only hope I don't stain it or rip it at the ball._

But Cari did not have much more time to worry about the gown's fate, for within a few minutes she had changed out of it and into the more austere deep blue dress in which she had chosen to receive her visitors.

About half an hour later, one of the heralds entered the throne room, where the entire family had gathered, and announced the arrival of High King Peter, Queen Susan, King Edmund, and Queen Lucy. Hardly had he spoken than in strode the four monarchs, startling Cari, who in any case had become rather jittery at the prospect of greeting so many important people within the space of several hours. As one, they made a perfect bow to King Lune and his family, who reciprocated the gesture, although not with their counterparts' level of unison.

"Welcome, welcome!" King Lune greeted the Narnians with his usual booming enthusiasm. He quickly strode forward and offered the High King a hearty handshake. "It has been far too long," he added, doing the same with King Edmund.

Queen Susan smiled warmly as the king kissed her hand. "We understand," she replied graciously. "The time has been gainfully spent on our side, and I suspect even more on yours."

King Lune beamed as he turned to greet Queen Lucy. "Ah, yes, that much is true," he conceded. "Still – you are a very welcome sight to us all."

"As are you," King Peter answered, grinning in return. He stepped forward and bowed to Cari, who had composed herself enough to offer him a deep and decidedly northern curtsey. "Ah, the lady of honor," he said, gently taking and kissing her extended hand. "Happy birthday, Princess Carisa, and our apologies for making the greeting a day late."

Cari shook her head slightly. "Oh, no, King Peter, no apologies are needed. I am very honored by your presence here." _Oh, right. Birthdays…_ "And my birthday greetings to you as well, although I am afraid mine are even later. I hope you had a wonderful day."

The king acknowledged this with a nod. "My thanks to you, Princess, and I did." He graciously stepped aside for King Edmund, who greeted Cari heartily. As he in turn moved on to the twins, the two queens approached Cari.

"Happy birthday, Cari," she said, her warm smile eliciting a genuine one from the younger girl. "I hope you had a truly lovely day."

Cari nodded at once. "Oh, yes, very much so, Queen – Susan."

The older girl took no notice of Cari's hesitation. "Wonderful. I hope we can help make your ball just as pleasant. We appreciate your inviting us."

"The pleasure is mine, Qu – Susan," Cari answered, even as Queen Lucy rushed up to embrace her.

"Cari!" she fairly squealed. "Happy birthday – oh, it's so good to see you! It's been rather ages since we saw you last, after all." She pulled back, grinning. "Oh, I love being at Anvard – and much more, of course, now that you and Cor and Aravis are here! Cor and Corin didn't tease you too much yesterday, I hope?" she added, her eyes twinkling.

Cari grinned back. "No, not too much. They were actually quite well-behaved, come to think of it."

The other girl's grin widened. "Did they sing you the Anvard birthday song?"

"The what, again?" Cari's brow wrinkled in confusion even as Queen Susan tilted her head in a half-reproving, half-understanding gesture. Suddenly Cari found that she did not need the reply already half-formed on Queen Lucy's lips, for seeing the older girl's face reminded Cari of the look she had given Corin when he had hidden the sword Cor had been using during their visit to Cair Paravel.

"Oh, right – that song," she said, her cheeks taking on a darker shade of pink. Then her eyes widened as she addressed both queens at once. "Corin didn't sing it to you, did he?"

Even Queen Susan could not help smiling as her sister answered Cari. "Oh, no, not to us. He and – oh, yes, Tobin, who works in your kitchens, and of course Jevern and Malvor, who were two of his best friends for some time before you and Cor and Aravis got here – they've sung it on several of the days we've been here; nearly every day was somebody's birthday, after all." She threw Cari a melodramatic, conspiratorial eyeroll. "Brothers do have the loveliest ways of showing affection. Edmund used to celebrate _our _birthdays – " here she indicated herself and her sister with a tilt of her head – "by sneaking up behind us during our walks on the quay and pushing us into the sea." She grinned widely. "Of course, it nearly always backfired on him, because Peter would simply push him in after us – that is, if he could catch him. Ed's the fastest runner out of all of us by far. Well, no, I should say he moves the quickest out of all of us. Half the time he'd pull Peter into the water behind him, and if I was the only one left on the quay, I'd jump in straight away, because my skirts would be soaked already from the splashing." She turned and half-winked mischievously at her sister. "If it was Susan, though, she usually took a bit more…persuading."

Queen Susan playfully narrowed her eyes. "Oh, is that what you call yanking someone into the water, then?"

"Well, it wouldn't have been half as good a water-fight without you, and you wouldn't have gone in otherwise." Queen Lucy shot her sister a mock-pleading look. "Besides, you always had so much fun after I pulled you in!"

The older queen only narrowed her eyes more at that, but just then King Edmund cleared his throat.

"As I was saying, ladies," he addressed his sisters in a mock-reproving tone, "I do believe we have a bit of a surprise for everybody."

The younger queen threw him a quizzical look, which lasted all of two seconds before her eyes lit up, and she seized Cari's arm.

"Oh, you must all come outside," she urged, turning to King Lune, Aravis, and the twins. "Not for long, but we've brought something – well, other than your birthday gifts, Cari – that you'll all simply love!"

Queen Lucy's word turned out to be more than good, for no sooner had the entire party exited the main doors than Cari spotted three very familiar faces near the entrance.

"Bren!" she exclaimed joyfully, even as simultaneous shouts of "Bree!" and "Hwin!" emerged from the lips of Cor and Aravis, respectively. Within seconds, all three of them had rushed forward and thrown their arms around the necks of the horses, whose chorus of "Happy birthday, Cari!" had very nearly gotten lost in the shuffle.

Bren's steady, neighing laughter was music to Cari's ears. "You look wonderfully well, Cari," she greeted the girl once Cari had let go of her. "I am glad to see the northern winter winds haven't blown you away. Heaven only knows they very nearly did to Bree," she added, grinning at her brother.

Bree rolled his eyes at her, even as he whinnied in agreement. "Years in the south will thin one's blood as you wouldn't believe," he said. "If it hadn't been for all the trees, not to mention our many companions, we'd have blown clear north of Ettinsmoor by now."

Hwin shook her head. "You only would have needed to roll a bit more in the snow," she replied, causing Cor's face to break into a mischievous grin.

"Ha! Bet he made more snow angels than all of us put together," he teased Bree, who rewarded him with a mock glare.

"I'll have you know, foal," he replied, "that – hm-hmm – dexterity with one's limbs on – hmm – slippery surfaces is seen as a very – huh-mm-mmm – unique and excellent trait to have among Narnian horses."

This caused Bren to burst out laughing, and Hwin chuckled gently. Even Bree, whose sarcasm was clearly more good-humored than anything else, joined in.

"What he means," Bren finally informed the others, "is that most Narnian horses don't slip and tumble over the ice and snow nearly the way we all did at first. Well, not Hwin so much – she was the first to get used to it – but the foals did become rather fond of playing with us, since we were so easy for them to knock down and push around on the ice. Which did endear us to their parents, I must say."

Bree grinned. "We did make fantastic playmates, if I say so myself."

Unfortunately, the conversation did not go on much longer before one of the castle scouts approached and announced the imminent arrival of the Terebinthian party. Cari and the others reluctantly parted from the horses after many reassurances that they would hasten to the stables at their first opportunity. Once inside the castle again, the Narnians were ushered off for refreshments while King Lune and his family assumed their former positions in the throne room.

To her own surprise – although perhaps not, she reflected at some point, to Mistress Morenna's – Cari weathered the next several hours, a blur of bows and curtsies and polite introductions, remarkably well. She neither tripped over her own skirts nor used the greeting for the Telmarine prince on the Galmian dukes, and she correctly pronounced the names of all the guests. She even welcomed Sarmad Tarkaan and his party without incident. When the last of the guests, a group of lords from the Lone Islands, had been ushered to their chambers, Cari let out a long sigh of relief, echoed by even louder ones from her brothers (and even a very small one from Aravis). King Lune beamed at them all and said that Mistress Morenna herself times four could not have done as well at welcoming the dignitaries as the four of them had. Cor grinned at Cari as they mounted the steps to their apartments to prepare for that evening's banquet.

"Told you so, didn't I?" he smirked. "Oh, I do love being right."

Cari rolled her eyes at him. "Don't get used to it."

By the time Mara and Maria had finished lacing Cari into a more festive cornflower-blue gown covered with flowers embroidered in bronze thread and split at the bottom to reveal a bronze satin underskirt, the hour was a bit later than King Lune had previously anticipated, and, instead of taking a half-hour to rest and visit the stables, they were all forced to hasten directly downstairs to the great hall. Cari paused for a moment in front of the enormous double doors to take her father's arm as he smiled down at her.

"You will do brilliantly, my daughter," he said, seeing her bite her bottom lip ever so slightly. "I have no doubts at all."

He nodded to the guards, who with one fluid movement pulled the doors open, even as the herald announced their entrance. Every guest in the hall, which was now resplendent with candles of blue-dyed wax and table coverings of blue, gold, and bronze, stood and faced the head table. Cari and her father reached it without incident, and he smoothly seated her directly to his right. Cor, Corin, and Aravis followed them directly, and in short order all of them were seated.

Before the meal began, King Lune stood and welcomed his guests with a speech that included a good deal of praise for Cari and her accomplishments; by the end of it, the subject's face had grown downright red, and to her right she could sense Cor biting his tongue to keep from laughing. Eventually, though, the king re-seated himself, and the servants promptly entered the hall with the first of the eight courses traditionally served at state banquets in Archenland.

Over the next two hours, the guests dined on more types of game than Cari had known existed in Archenland, not to mention hosts of steamed vegetable medleys, various stews, fish-and-nut dishes arranged to please the palates of many of the foreigners, and enough fruit, bread, and cheese to victual Anvard for a month. Cari, however, did not eat even as much as she did at a normal meal, occupying herself instead by conversing with the guests at her table. These included the governors of all of Archenland's provinces, along with their wives. Cari had met two or three of the couples during their previous visits to Anvard, but the rest were as unfamiliar to her as the Galmian dukes, although, thanks to Master Dorian's excellent geography lessons, she did know much more about their provinces of origin than she did with any of the other guests. All in all, she found those seated nearest her quite agreeable, and although she had to take her time with some of her questions and answers – she once very nearly asked the governor of the Southern March what were the jewels most frequently found in the mountains of Kemmern in northeastern Archenland – she enjoyed the conversation much more than she had expected. _Of course, _she mused as she took a bite of chocolate-cream pudding, _addressing them requires no special foreign protocols, so naturally it's a bit easier to converse properly with them. Thank heavens Father saw fit to skew things in my favor a bit with the seating arrangements._

After dinner was finally over, the entire company adjourned to the west hall for a rousing series of games that ran the gamut from Queen Lucy's beloved dice-bowls to Galmian dominoes and checkers played on the star-shaped boards favored by the Nakorusians. Cari, who made sure to join in each game at some point, proved particularly good at team dominoes, which greatly endeared her to her partner, Prince Miroslav of Nakorus.

"Ah, a beautiful girl with a beautiful mind for strategy," he fairly purred, bowing, as Cari topped off an opponent's double-eleven domino with a double-twelve of her own to win the match. "You are a indeed a rare gem, Princess."

Cari tried to keep her cheeks' reddening to a minimum as she nodded graciously in response. "Thank you, Prince Miroslav."

"Yes, well-played to you both," put in Lord Barnaby, eldest son of the governor of the province of Pire. He rewarded Cari with his most charming smile. "Certainly, Princess, one so accomplished at a pursuit this difficult can surely manage a game such as Jump-Crystals in a trice, think you not?"

"In most cases, yes," replied Cari, "although each individual has his or her strong suits at games as in weapon-craft and in every other area of skill."

Lord Barnaby's smile widened. "A lovely, intelligent, and wise princess." He offered her his arm, even as he turned to Prince Miroslav, whose eyes had narrowed ever so slightly. "Shall we all attempt a round, then, sir? Given, of course," he added quickly, bowing once more to Cari, "that Princess Carisa will do me the honor of partnering with me?"

"For a round, yes, of course," answered Cari, resting her hand on the top of the young lord's arm, and not burrowing it underneath, which she knew Nakorusians took to be a more intimate gesture than the former. "After that, I must pay my respects to Duke Fergus and Duke Theriot of Galma. You understand, of course, that I must not neglect any of my guests."

Both young men averred their utmost delight at seeing such diplomacy and kindness added to the princess's many other excellent qualities. Cari inwardly bit back a sigh. _Why did I hope for a fraction of a second that I would not spend the entire evening dealing with this sort of behavior, after what happened at the Narnian feast?_ She took a slightly deeper breath than usual as the party arrived at the Jump-Crystals tables. _Focus, Cari, and don't be rude. Perhaps they're nearly as tense as you are, and heavens only know how annoying you can get when you're nervous. _

Luckily, King Edmund and Queen Lucy, along with one of the lords from the Lone Islands, were seated at the table Cari and her companions had joined, and the younger girl's cheerful banter with the four men, along with her brother's joking and infectious grin, helped ease Cari's nerves a bit.

"We'll catch you later, Cari," Queen Lucy promised as Cari stood to leave the table, which, of course, caused all four men to rise as well. The younger girl barely restrained a giggle and, seeing that none of the men was watching her, accompanied it with a half-wink.

"Thank you, Queen Lucy," Cari replied, turning to face the billiards table, where the Galmian dukes had just bested several of Cor's and Corin's gentlemen-in-waiting. _You have no idea how much I mean it, either,_ she thought, as King Lune swept up to escort her to her destination.

"I trust none of our guests have become yet too bothersome, my daughter?" he queried lightheartedly, although Cari did not miss the note of concern in his eyes.

"No, Father, not quite yet," she answered, rewarding him with a grateful smile.

It was nearly midnight by the time the last guests had headed to their chambers. After a rather large yawn, King Lune assured the siblings that they had all done brilliantly with the guests, and that he was convinced they would comport themselves with the same dignity and respect on the following day. He mainly looked at Corin during the second part of his speech, but his eyes still twinkled as he said it. As he wished Cari a good night, he gently squeezed her shoulders and said, "I am very, very proud of you, Carisa." He stooped and kissed her on the forehead. "Sweet dreams, my daughter."

Cari buried her head deeper into his warm shoulder before turning toward the stairs. "You, too, Father."

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, I really did plan to write the ball into this chapter, but said chapter had an absolutely devilish mind of its own! The next one will cover the ball in its entirety; that I promise you.**

**Please review – even if it's only to throw virtual tomatoes at me for not including more Cari-Peter interaction. You will definitely get more of it in the next chapter.**


	32. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm sorry about taking a bit longer to post this chapter; I'm still dealing with a couple of annoying RL issues – besides which this chapter has given me absolute**_** fits**_**. I hope you find it worth the wait – as always, don't be shy about letting me know what you think of it!**

Despite their short night's sleep, the three siblings and Aravis rose earlier than usual the following morning and headed straight to the stables. There they spent nearly an hour being regaled with stories of the horses' winter adventures in Narnia, as well as sharing some of their own. Bree held them captive with his description of the Narnian midwinter festival, especially the part about the snowball dance.

"It beats the nose and tail off anything the Calormenes ever came up with – no offense, Aravis," he added, although Aravis seemed not to mind at all in any case. "I've never seen such precision, even in the cavalry drills Bren and I did with the Tarkaans. There are dancers who know what they're doing! Even their fingers move at the exact same time when they form the snowballs, and when they throw them – and every time the tunes change, so does the angle at which the balls fly. It's a spectacle worth staying up many a night to see, I tell you."

Recalling the previous summer's bean dance, Cari smiled. "I certainly hope we can go to Narnia next winter to see it, then, although it depends on what Father wants to do."

Bren grinned at this. "Just put a word in Queen Lucy's ear, then, and let her talk to King Lune. She could persuade a cat to give up mousing forever."

"In any case," added Hwin, "let us know whenever you do come to Narnia, whether it be in the winter or at another time. We'd love to show you our meadows."

"And anyhow," put in Bree, "we haven't had a proper ride together since last summer. It is, after all, our duty to make sure you haven't gone slack in your riding skills." Turning to Corin, he added, "And I am sure I know more than one of our friends who would bear you along very comparably, Prince Corin – that is, assuming you wish to participate and not critique." He winked.

Cor rolled his eyes. "Oh, he'll do both at once, Bree, don't worry."

Breakfast time rolled around all too soon, and the foursome left the stables to find breakfast ready and several additional guests at the table. A late blizzard in the mountains of Kemmern had delayed Lord Aren, Lady Lina, and their son Kenton, who had finally arrived not half an hour previously. Joining them were Lord Dorn, Lady Lara, and all three of their children, who had left the province of Berg a day later than planned due to similarly bad weather in the mountains separating western Archenland from Telmar. All were in good spirits, however, and hailed Cari with a rousing chorus of birthday greetings. After a flurry of hugs and handshakes, the family sat down again and joined the rest of the guests in partaking of the morning's spoils, an impressive array of fruits with cream and ice, walnut and almond breads, and piping-hot omelettes with all manner of vegetables and cheeses.

The exceptionally warm weather permitted the entire company, once breakfast was over, to adjourn to the outside terraces and the driest parts of the castle lawns for horseshoes, quoits, tenpins, and several of the other games with which the guests were familiar. As she had on the previous evening, Cari made sure to make the rounds to all of the visitors, most of whom were as profuse in their compliments as Prince Miroslav and Lord Barnaby – not to mention many of the others – had been before.

_That Midsummer dance was a blessing in disguise after all,_ she decided as she made her way, along with two of her ladies-in-waiting, over to one of the horseshoe poles, where both Galmian dukes had gathered with a couple of Terebinthian lords and a few of the Lone Islanders. _If I hadn't encountered those young men trying all manner of things to get my attention back then, heavens know I should not have been able to deal with it times two dozen today. I don't care how politely they're doing it – it's still ten times worse than having Corin play tricks on me all day long._

Still, only a few minutes later Cari was mightily resisting the urge to look upward and check the position of the sun, which she was silently begging to hurry to the top of the sky to signal lunch time. Lord Altair, a strapping, red-headed Lone Islander who could not have been older than her by even three years and who had seemed the previous night to be a friend to the Narnian monarchs, actually asked her about her other interests outside of throwing games. However, the others all proved eager both to show off their own skills and to praise Cari's, with the exception of Lord Devan of Terebinthia. After tossing a near-ringer on his second throw, he bowed to general cheering from the onlookers.

"My thanks to you all," he said, bowing, "but I am sure Her Highness – " here he bowed in Cari's direction – "would appreciate a bit more quiet during her tosses." He grinned, half-winking, at Cari, who was too startled to do anything but produce a polite nod.

The noise promptly died down, even as Lady Dara and Lady Ketria offered Cari a pair of sympathetic looks, and she turned to pick up her horseshoe in relative silence. Her first toss landed within an inch of the pole, and the second toss produced a ringer; both drew appreciative claps from the onlookers. As she headed back to stand by her ladies-in-waiting, Cari smiled faintly. _At least I got a minute's peace and quiet, even if it's the only such minute I'll see all day._

Eventually, lunch time arrived, and afterwards, King Lune took most of the guests into the woods behind the castle on a pigeon hunt. This gave Cari some time with the few female guests who had accompanied their brothers or fathers. Among the four of them, Cari's two aunts and the Narnian queens had met most of these before, and in short order, all had adjourned to the bower, where Cari's ladies-in-waiting had set up a couple of extra looms configured for group weaving. They had also brought from their quarters the musical instrument each one was best at, as had Aravis's ladies-in-waiting, and so the weaving session was accompanied by a series of lovely melodies that varied from lyrical ballads to merry festival tunes. More often than not, the ladies sang as they played, and they were joined several times by the guests. At one point, Lady Tammah and Lady Takiel performed a duet with their lyres, which so delighted Cari that she nearly dropped several stitches.

_I wish I could play the lyre half so well as that; no, one-quarter so well as that. Or the violin,_ she mused, as Lady Dara began accompanying the two ladies on hers. _Perhaps one of these days Mistress Shona will run out of new dances to teach me, and I can actually practice enough upon my lyre to sound halfway decent._

Soon enough, the men came streaming in from their hunting expedition, and tea was served in the great hall earlier than usual, in order to allow the servants time to prepare it for dinner, which would immediately precede the ball. As soon as it was over, Cari and Aravis headed to their apartments to get ready for the evening.

After her bath, Cari sat to have her hair done. Much as she tried, she could not stop her feet from tapping out dance after dance, or her arms from working out each step and hold and twirl along with them. It was all she could do not to move her head in concert as well.

"Tilt a bit to the right, Princess – now left – hold still just so for a few moments – a bit more still, please – just a bit longer, now." Mara's gentle instructions were the only words Cari's mind registered at all for the next three-quarters of an hour. Every time, she apologized and attempted to remain perfectly still, but soon enough, her feet began tapping again. Eventually, with great effort, she managed to still them for the last ten minutes.

"Oh, it's _lovely_, Princess Cari!" Maria exclaimed as they finally helped Cari up, and Mara agreed. "Very pretty, Princess."

Cari, who was not to look into the mirror until she was fully dressed with her jewelry on, nevertheless thanked them both. "I am sorry I made your work more difficult, as well," she added. _As I blasted well should be. It's a wonder they didn't both lose their tempers with me._

But Maria merely waved her hand in reply. "Oh, don't worry, Princess Cari," she said. "I can't sit still half so well as you can, and besides, Mum says I was simply awful as a child before I learned how to do my own hair."

"I didn't say you were awful, Maria," her mother answered gently, "merely that you were not fond of sitting still for very long. Many children are like that. And do not let your nerves trouble you overmuch, Princess," she added, turning back to Cari. "You have worked exceptionally hard to prepare for tonight, and that will serve you well. I know you will do Archenland proud tonight."

Luckily for her nerves, it did not take very long for Cari to be laced into her dress, which proved surprisingly comfortable for its stateliness and fine materials, and it took less time even than that for her to don the jewelry, which had been brought upstairs from the vault at some point during the day. When the preparations had finally been completed with a mist of perfume and a touch of powder on her eyes and cheeks, Mara and Maria both beamed at her.

"Oooh, Princess Cari, you look so lovely!" exclaimed Maria, clapping her hands in excitement. Her mother nodded, her eyes moist. "You look beautiful, Princess."

Cari turned to the mirror, not expecting nearly as much, but this time she was disappointed, for the second they met the shiny surface, her eyes widened nearly out of their sockets.

_What on earth have they done? I look almost nothing like myself! _was her first thought, followed by, _So they didn't put too much powder on, after all; I was quite worried that they had._

Her reflection, wide-eyed and shaking finely, stared back at her, bedecked in the ball gown that vindicated every second the seamstresses had spent on it. Its hues and patterns perfectly matched the ribbons in her hair, an intricately shaped mass of turns and curls interwoven with fine, silky streams of blue, bronze, and gold. The glittering jewels on her neck, wrists, fingers, and ears finished the gown, rather than overwhelming its wearer, as Cari had feared. Nor did they make her look as pale as she had thought they would. In fact, her face was what surprised Cari the most. It fairly glowed next to the soft blue fabric at the top of the dress; normally too light for Cari's liking, her cheeks had sprung a pleasing pink tinge, and her eyes, highlighted by a sprinkling of silver-blue powder, shone perfectly along with the gems in her necklace and earrings. _Probably more from nerves than from anything else_, mused Cari. _Still, though, Mara and Maria are miracle workers; I look far more presentable than I should after all that fidgeting. Of course, that doesn't make my mouth smaller, and it doesn't mean one can't see the mole on my neck or the tiny bumps that do love to appear on my left cheek and jaw when I'm nervous, but this is certainly an improvement from most days. _She sighed and set her shoulders. _Yes, I'll do. Now focus, Cari. Don't think about the little bumps; think about getting all of your table protocols and dance steps correct. That, and not stepping on anybody's feet._

Mara and Maria, however, clearly did not share Cari's anxiety; both heaped encouragement on her as she left to meet with her family in the hallway outside their apartments. Aravis was already there, and it took her only a few moments to point out that Cari's feet had clearly forgotten to stop practicing the night's dances.

"Cari, tell your nerves to stuff their corks," she said impatiently, glancing pointedly down at the older girl's cloth-of-gold-slippered feet. "And stop shaking your feet. You're going to do fine."

Cari's face reddened as she stilled her feet mid-step. "Sorry."

Aravis rolled her eyes. "And stop acting as though you think you're some bumbling idiot. Heavens only know you've studied and practiced for all of this ten times as hard as I have – which means about a hundred times as hard as Corin or Cor. Master Dorian's always saying how quickly you've progressed for as short a time as you've been here. That means he actually thinks – guess what? – that _you're going to do fine_." She threw Cari an especially sharp look. "And I happen to agree with him, in case you hadn't figured that out yet."

Cari bit back a "Yes, Your Majesty," choosing instead to take a deep breath and answer, "Yes, thank you, Aravis."

The twins turned up shortly after that, followed in short order by King Lune, whose face lit up when he saw his daughter. "Cari, my daughter," he greeted her, putting his arm around her shoulders and kissing her cheek. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you, Father," Cari replied, noticing as she did so that the look he was giving her was very similar to the one on Mara's face when she had bid Cari a good evening just minutes before. As the king turned to face the others, she surreptitiously glanced downward to see if anything was wrong with her dress. _No, not at all, and anyway, Maria wouldn't have let me out the door if she'd seen something like that. _

She looked up to see King Lune raising his eyebrows at his sons. "I trust the both of you shall be on your best behavior," he admonished them. "I need not remind you that you do, in fact, represent Archenland tonight, even though not in official capacity yet."

Their replies of "Yes, Father," and "Of course, Father," seemed to satisfy the king, although Cari could have sworn that his left eyebrow rose just a bit higher as he glanced at Corin. He said nothing, though, and turned to smile at Aravis.

"I along with all of Archenland rejoice that Aslan sent you to us, Aravis," he said, "and that you, too, represent us all tonight."

"Thank you, Father Lune," Aravis replied, beaming at him even as she winked at Cari out of the corner of her eye.

Before Cari could narrow her eyes back at the younger girl, her father approached to take her arm and lead her downstairs to dinner.

"Do not fear, my daughter," he said in a low voice as they approached the steps. "You have spared nothing in your devotion to your duties, and I am very, very proud of you." He cleared his throat ever so slightly before adding, "And I know your mother would be proud of you, as well. You are her daughter in character, a much more pleasing thing than resembling her in beauty, although you have done both." He set his hand reassuringly upon her still-trembling one. "You have done your family and your country proud at all times thus far, and I know you will do so again tonight."

Cari gave him as much of a smile as she was capable of at the moment. "Thank you, Father," she whispered. _Well, not technically "at all times," but of course I won't say that. After all, "at all times" would have to include the time I curtseyed to King Peter the Calormene way, not to mention all the times I stepped on his and his brother's feet – and many others' – while dancing._

_Cari, get a hold of yourself. That was several months ago; you've improved since then. You're much more capable of avoiding those mistakes now than you were back then. Besides, how many times has Father told you that focusing on a mistake tends to ensure repeating it?_

As they had the previous night, the royal family entered the great hall after all of the guests had arrived. Fortunately for Cari's nerves, the seating arrangements were much the same, with the addition of the governors of Berg and Kemmern and their wives, who along with Cari's relatives had been delayed by the snowstorms.

All too soon, the servants began clearing the last course's plates away, and King Lune rose to invite the guests into the grand ballroom for the beginning of the dance. Cari smiled appropriately at this announcement, but her heart rate nearly doubled in a matter of seconds, and she began feeling light in the head. It took a few surreptitious deep breaths to reverse both tendencies and allow her to rise a few minutes later without stumbling. Even then, she felt a bit of a rush to her head, and was only too glad to take her father's arm as they headed toward the hall outside the ballroom.

At the door, King Lune held a short conversation with the herald before nodding to the men-at-arms, who simultaneously pushed aside the enormous, bronze-handled double doors as the herald announced "His Majesty King Lune and Her Royal Highness the Princess Carisa."

Cari slowly sucked in a deep breath to counteract her quickened heartbeat. _Focus, Cari. Dance the way you did the past couple of lessons with Mistress Shona. You've done all right – not spectacularly, but all right – so far. You can do it again tonight. You can keep from letting Father – and Mother – down. _

As she swept into the ballroom on her father's arm, she took another breath and let it out as slowly as possible, smiling all the while. _I will not let them down. I will _not_._

Then Cari's eyes began to take in the magnificent scene around her. She had been in the ballroom several times before, two of them during the past few days during lessons with Mistress Shona, but then it had simply been a pillared stone cavern with a two-story-high ceiling and more sconces than usual. Tonight, however, she barely recognized it as the same room. The whitewashed walls, once pale and monotonous, were resplendent with drapings of bronze-edged fabric in myriad shades of blue, as well as swaths of cloth-of-gold. The bronze ornaments that gathered them at various points glittered in the light of the magnificent bronze chandelier hanging from the ceiling, as well as hundreds of blue and white candles in the room's multitude of sconces. Even the statues had been polished and now glowed to near-lifelike hues; the phoenix statue, which Cari had not noticed on her previous trips to the room, looked ready to blaze a trail of flame across the ceiling at any given moment. Tables piled with refreshments edged three of the four walls, although the one that caught Cari's eye first manned the wall directly opposite the doors. Its center boasted an array of small cakes with gold and white icing, arranged in the shape of a large "C" and complemented by tall candles and tiny glass bottles containing crocus blossoms. Many of the cakes, Cari noticed, were chocolate, her favorite. _And if my stomach weren't churning so furiously right now, I'd walk over as quickly as possible and start eating them – not to mention if I didn't have an obligation to dance with every single guest in this room._

Fortunately, protocol dictated that Cari's first dance be with her father, and he had ordered the musicians to play her favorite one. It was one of the first dances she had learned upon her arrival in Archenland, and she knew the steps very well. She even found herself able to carry on a conversation with the king instead of thinking through the steps, and in fact made not a single mistake.

As the final notes sounded, the onlookers burst into applause for the only couple on the floor. Cari and her father bowed, and immediately everybody began to pair off for the next dance, a quick, merry number Cari had learned at almost the same time as she had been taught the first one. Her partner, Duke Lyle of Terebinthia, had clearly learned the dance before she had, leading ably even as he asked her questions about Narnian and Archenlandic poets and whether she was fond at all of Callius.

_Oh, bother, _thought Cari as she nodded to acknowledge his question while pausing as long as was considered polite. _I wish he'd asked about Tellon of Archenland instead; I've read a good deal more of his work. Still, it's much better than being complimented half to death._

"I do like as much as I have read of his work," she finally replied, "but I also enjoy Tellon's and Riordan's work as well, especially Tellon's Island Sagas. I learned a good bit from them of the history of lands other than my own."

This elicited a smile from the duke. "Ah, yes, Tellon. A great lover of Terebinthian peaches – and of storytelling." After twirling her three times in a row with the music, he added, "I find his gifts more than compensate for his occasional confusion among the three kings named Terembor; after all, they were father, son, and grandson, and easily mistaken even by young Terebinthian school children."

Cari nodded. "But the grandfather's reign was the one considered a golden age of sorts, no? I hear that some of your own greatest poets flourished during that time."

No sooner had Cari finished the dance than Prince Miroslav of Nakorus stepped up to claim her for the next one. Cari steeled herself for more flattery, and indeed the prince began the dance by complimenting her beauty, but she was taken by surprise when he began asking her about Callius, the Lay of Arbior, and the Great Western War. She managed to answer his questions truthfully and, she hoped, graciously enough, but when her next partner, Duke Theriot of Galma, began asking her similar questions, she became downright suspicious. By the time she had conversed with the fourth man in a row on the same subjects, she considered her suspicions confirmed.

_Oh, bother it all,_ she sighed inwardly as she curtseyed to Lord Barnaby to begin her ninth or tenth dance of the night (she had already lost count)._ I suppose it was bound to get out one way or another that I love studying Archenlandic history, especially that period, and that I'm very fond of the epic poets, but must my favorite subjects and stories become yet another way for these men to make their flattering plays for my apparent affections? I so wish I could just say that my favorite subject is high mathematics and watch their faces go red!_

_Oh, no, you don't, Cari. If you think about it, they probably all have parents trying to push them into the most advantageous possible marriage alliances, and of course they want to please their parents; they're just trying to do it in the best way they know how. You can't fault them so badly for that; at least they're being polite about it. Besides, Lord Altair didn't say a word about Callius or the Great Western War, and neither did Lord Dolan of Westrode. Honestly, Cari, you're making a dune out of a sand-grain._

_Yes, fine, all right. I still can't wait to dance with Chancellor Velmont, though, not to mention Cor and Corin. None of them will try playing history games with me._

After the dance ended, Cari took a welcome respite to spend some time at the refreshment tables. By now she was brave enough to try one of the chocolate cakes, but she ended up eating only a couple of bites for a very welcome reason: she almost literally ran into Queen Lucy, who gave her an eager side-arm embrace and asked her how she was enjoying the ball. The knowing look in her eyes told Cari she meant the question in truth, and she hesitated just long enough to see a knowing smile spread over the younger girl's face.

"That bad, hmm?" she replied.

Cari half-smiled back. "No, it's not really bad; in fact, almost everybody wants to discuss the Great Western War and the Lay of Arbior, and I am very fond of both subjects."

Queen Lucy, Cari could tell, was not fooled in the least, but snapped her fingers in mock-frustration. "Oh, bother! And here I thought I would be the very first to ask you my many burning questions about the Battle of the Flood."

This elicited Cari's first real smile of the evening, along with half a nervous laugh. "Well, I am quite in practice; you may as well go ahead."

The queen gave her an understanding smile. "At my sixteenth birthday party, I got all manner of questions about herbs and sprouts and anything medicinal in nature." She reached out and sympathetically touched Cari's elbow. "It does end eventually, that I promise you. And until it does, I won't say one word about the subjects that shall not be named." She winked.

Just then the music ended, and Queen Lucy straightened all of a sudden. "Oh, right. Cari, may I excuse myself? I'm sorry, but I have to go and dance with Prince Tesher so somebody else can dance with Susan." She tilted her head toward the end of the dance floor nearest them, where Queen Susan was curtseying with a slightly straighter back than usual to a dark-haired man who was bowing low over her hand as he kissed it.

Cari nodded. _At least I'm not the only lady here whose admirers she wishes would stop admiring her._ "Thank you, Queen Lucy."

The younger girl grinned. "For what?" Before Cari could reply, she had dashed onto the floor.

A few minutes later Cari followed the younger queen's lead, taking the next dance with Prince Tesher of Kulon. To Cari's relief, he said not a word about the Lay of Arbior, instead offering ponderings upon various points of diplomacy and statecraft. Cari was surprised at how well she kept up, and even more surprised to realize, at the beginning of her next dance, that she had not yet stepped on anybody's feet or made a mistake of any kind.

_Stop thinking that way, Cari. It's bad luck; you're bound to make mistakes if making – or avoiding – them is all you can think about. Think about getting the steps right, not about getting them wrong._

A couple of dances later, Cari found herself paired with Corin. Apart from asking if she had found herself a suitable husband yet, he refrained from needling her, preferring instead to extol the virtues of the refreshment tables and to inform her that he and Cor had a bet going as to who could eat the most cakes by the end of the evening.

"Don't expect me to feel sorry for either of you when you're both up all night sick to your stomachs, then," Cari answered, rolling her eyes at him.

"Oh, don't worry. We will," Corin retorted as the music ended. He gave her a flourishing, exaggerated bow and headed off in the direction of the refreshments.

_At least he said nothing about the Lay of Arbior,_ Cari thought as she turned to greet her next partner, one Lord Jamarion from Telmar. In spite of itself, one corner of her mouth quirked decidedly upwards when, during a turn, she caught a glimpse of her brother conversing energetically with Lords Devan and Etemar of Terebinthia, with whom she had already danced. _I just hope he's not trying to rope them into his little eating contest, too._

But this was not what Corin had in mind. Not a minute later, as Cari and her partner wove their way through the final steps of the dance, she could not help but hear Corin's rather loudly raised voice only a few feet away from her. Just as the musicians sounded the last note and she and Lord Jamarion performed their final bows to each other, his voice rose altogether above the hubbub of the ballroom, and vividly so.

"I'll knock you down! _I'll knock you _down_!"_ he shouted, his voice shaking with fury, and before Cari could turn to ascertain the source of the disturbance, she heard a soft _thud_ and then, as the ballroom suddenly stilled, another, much louder one. The latter occurred at precisely the moment that Corin, together with Lord Devan, crashed into her and bowled her over flat onto the floor, but not before she had collided with and knocked over a very startled King Peter. His momentum in turn carried him straight into Lord Etemar, who landed with a _plop_ a few feet away from Cari. Meanwhile, an enraged Corin had scrambled on top of Lord Devan and started pummeling every inch of him he could reach.

Not bothering to rise to her feet first, Cari managed to half-crawl, half-roll the short distance to her brother, yanking him violently by the arm off of Lord Devan.

"_Corin!"_ she fairly shouted. "Stop it! _Stop it! _Have you lost your mind? Lord Devan is a guest in our home!"

Corin all but spat his retort back in her face. "No, he's not! He's no guest of ours! Not after what he said about you!"

Cari was startled enough by this accusation to loosen her grip on her brother's arm for a moment, and he would have leaped back onto the object of his anger had not King Lune come pushing through the crowd that had gathered around the combatants.

"Corin," he demanded immediately, "what is the meaning of this?"

Corin looked his father full in the face as he made his reply. "He and Lord Etemar insulted Cari, Father, so I taught them not to."

The king reached down and hauled his son up by the same arm Cari had pulled. _Ouch. Poor Corin._ "And in doing so, Corin, you chose to completely disregard the laws of hospitality practiced in your own country and all the civilized lands in the world. This man is a guest in our home, and you have no right to treat him so."

"The laws only offer guests protection as long as they offer no injury to their hosts," returned Corin, "and he – he said – he said things that are just as bad as injuring Cari!"

It was hard for Cari to tell whose face was redder, King Lune's or that of his son; she half thought the king would concede that part of the point even if he continued to scold Corin. However, he firmly gripped his son's shoulders and turned him to face Lord Devan and Lord Etemar, whose own faces, Cari saw before quickly turning away, were perilously close to gleaming purple.

"Be that as it may, Corin, a man of honor does not injure his guests except in defense of life or health, and if he does, he offers an apology," the king said sternly. Corin's face dropped for a moment before he defiantly lifted his chin as far as it could go without angering his father – or anybody else – even further.

"I apologize for the injury, my lords," he said stiffly.

King Lune turned him back around. "Thank you. Go to your apartments, please. Marcus, if you please – " He turned to Maria's brother, who was also one of Corin's gentlemen-in-waiting. The young man nodded in understanding and turned to escort Corin upstairs.

Corin began to open his mouth, and for a moment Cari thought that he would find another angry retort, but instead he snapped his mouth shut, turned on his heels, and followed Marcus out of the ballroom without another word.

As Cari let out the breath she had not realized she had been holding, she chanced to glance over at Lord Devan and Lord Etemar. The latter had already risen to his feet, his red face still firmly intact, but the look on the face of his companion, who had sat up and was rubbing his shoulder, could only be described as the ghost of the one Cari had seen all too many times back in Calormen. Unable to stand the sight of either lord for another moment, she turned away and rested her hand on her forehead so that nobody would hear her shaky breaths or see her bite her tongue in a desperate attempt to maintain her composure. She barely heard her father's voice booming above her, or the gentler one closer by asking if she was all right. When she finally gathered herself enough to ascertain its source, she found herself meeting King Peter's steady, silver-blue gaze.

"Are you all right, Princess Carisa?" were the first words her mind registered. "Were you hit on the head?"

Cari dully shook her head. Belatedly realizing that he had asked two questions, she forced herself to speak. "No – I mean, no, I am not hurt – and yes, I am all right." Taking another deep breath, she managed, "And – King Peter, I am so sorry."

Before she could add to her apology, the king extended his hand and helped her to her feet.

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Princess," he said, his voice gentle. "None of this is your fault."

"Carisa, are you sure you are all right?" King Lune, who had been standing next to King Peter, turned to hold his daughter by the shoulders, concern written all over his face.

"Yes, Father, I'm fine," Cari replied, but he clearly did not share her certainty. She had barely thanked King Peter for his help before her father took her arm and escorted her over to the corner of the room nearest to the doors.

"You are sure you were not struck too hard, my daughter?" he asked; none of the concern had left his expression.

Cari nodded. "I mean – yes, I am sure. The floor rather took the brunt of it."

The king sighed. "I am sorry you had to go through that, Carisa. Corin, of course, should have known better." He hesitated several moments before forming his next words. "You – did not happen to hear anything the lords said to him, did you?"

Cari shook her head. "No, Father. I was dancing with Lord – " _Think, Cari, think._ " – with Lord – Jamarion, yes," she finished.

Her father voiced no immediate reply to this, and an awkward silence ensued until the king finally spoke up.

"I do not want you to think I would ever countenance any kind of abuse toward you, Carisa," he said earnestly. "I sent your brother upstairs because I do not wish for violence in my halls, but he has never failed in his truthfulness, and I shall go to him now to sort everything out. Lords Devan and Etemar, in any case, will not appear in this room again tonight." He suddenly started, as if he had stepped on a sharp object. "Carisa…these lords, has either of them behaved inappropriately toward you tonight, or at any other time?"

Once again, Cari shook her head. "No, Father. I have barely spoken to either one of them thus far." _And even when I did interact with them, they deceived me quite well, especially Lord Devan. He appeared so genuinely interested in getting the other lords to back off of me. I guess now I know why he did._

Her father nodded slowly. "Are you sure you wish to continue dancing, Carisa? The guests would certainly understand should you decide to depart for the evening."

_No, I don't wish to continue dancing, _Cari wanted to say. However, she straightened her shoulders, tipped her chin slightly upward, and replied, "No, thank you, Father. I am perfectly capable of finishing my duties here." _Besides, if I could endure any and all of Arsheesh's beatings, I should be able to handle this. I hope._

However, even as her ladies-in-waiting gathered around her and helped her re-arrange her dress and jewelry, Cari could not help nervously glancing around the room for any sign of Lord Devan or Lord Etemar. She saw none, but it took three tries from Lady Isabel to get her to say that she did not need any food or drink at the moment.

_Blast it._ Cari took a deep breath after thanking her ladies. "I'm afraid I have forgotten; with whom was I supposed to dance next?"_ Please say Cor. Please!_

However, Lady Dara did not. "High King Peter of Narnia, Princess Cari."

Cari nodded. "Thank you, Lady Dara." She turned to compose herself before facing the king for the next dance. _So I knock down two lords and a High King, see my brother kicked out of the ball followed by said lords after at least one of them has leered at and insulted me, and now have to dance with the king I knocked flat onto the floor. I suppose I should be grateful, though. At least King Peter won't try to flatter me. And after the Midsummer festival, not to mention what just happened, he's fully prepared to have me kick him in the shins._

"I am glad to see you back, Princess Carisa," the High King greeted her as they swept onto the floor for a Nakorusian waltz.

Cari smiled graciously as she nodded her acknowledgment. "Thank you, King Peter. And – oh – I do not know where my manners are. I – I did not have time to thank you properly for your kindness in helping me after I knocked you to the floor."

Had he had a free hand, Cari felt sure the king would have waved her apology away; as it was, he smiled and shook his head. "As I said before, Princess Carisa, that was hardly your fault. Besides, a very determined sibling is often more than a match for the best of us." As he stretched out an arm to twirl her in time with the music, he added, "Just ask Susan. She'll be more than happy to tell you about what happened during our first autumn in Narnia, right before the harvest festival. We were cracking nuts for the kitchen servants to use, and the girls had one pile to crack, and Edmund and I had the other. Edmund thought we could crack our pile faster, which of course the girls disagreed with – " as he leaned over to twirl Cari again, a reminiscent grin appeared on his face, and one corner of Cari's mouth quirked upwards in answer. "So we all decided that the last ones to finish the cracking had to clean up all the leftover shells. Edmund and I sat at one table and immediately began using our nutcrackers as fast as we could. When I looked over to see how Susan and Lucy were doing, I saw that they had put all of theirs in a pot, filled it with water, and put it over one of the fires that had burned down nearly to ashes. They said the combination of warmth and water would get the shells off faster. I, being the stubborn mule I was, did not believe her for a moment, but not three-quarters of an hour later, when Edmund and I were working the cramps out of our fingers between every nut and still had a third of our pile left, Susan and Lucy plopped down their bowl of shelled nuts right in front of us."

Cari's eyes widened, and as he swept her into a spin, the combination of the momentum and her own nerves elicited a short laugh. This seemed to please King Peter, whose eyes twinkled in response.

"Of course," he went on, "to top it off, they had left all of their shells piled neatly in the kettle, while Edmund and I had scattered ours every which way about the kitchen."

"Oh, no." Recalling Cor and Corin pelting each other, and seemingly every surface in the kitchens, with flour and dough scraps on Christmas Eve and imagining nut shavings and shells flying around in their place, Cari laughed even harder. Fortunately, King Peter did not seem to mind.

"Oh, yes," he answered, grinning broadly. "And Edmund and I deserved every stray shell we had to pick up, as our sisters lovingly reminded us for days afterward. We both still hear about it from time to time, in fact, especially during harvest season."

Cari felt her cheeks redden ever so slightly at this. "Siblings do have the world's best memories," she replied as he dipped her to end the dance.

"Ah, but there you and I have the advantage," King Peter said as he helped her up and bowed. "We, being the eldest, can remember the most." He gave her a slight but decidedly conspiratorial tilt of the head that elicited a genuine smile.

"I suppose we can," she answered as she rose from her curtsey. "Thank you, King Peter." _Especially for not saying one word about the Lay of Arbior, or about Lord Devan, or about Lord Etemar._

"The pleasure has been all mine, Princess," he replied graciously. "I wish you the most pleasant of evenings."

She nodded. "And to you as well, King Peter."

It was not until he turned away that Cari realized she had not given the incident with Corin a single thought for the past several minutes. _I hope whomever I dance with next does not see fit to mention it. I wouldn't even mind discussing the Lay of Arbior for the twentieth time tonight. I just can't handle thinking for much longer of Lord Devan looking at me like that._

Fortunately for Cari, Cor was her next partner, and aside from a "You all right, Cari?" at the beginning of the dance, he said nothing about what had happened. At the end, he graced her with an overly dramatic bow.

"A pleasure to dance with you, my beloved sister," he intoned in an exaggeratedly deep voice.

Cari rolled her eyes at him, even if more reservedly than usual. "You, too, Cor."

He grinned in response. "Come on, Cari, I'm not that bad. I have improved since I got here. Well, actually, _we_'ve improved; I don't think we even kicked each other once."

Cari smiled, remembering their clumsy first dance at the Midsummer festival. "All right, fair enough." As he turned to leave, she spoke a shade more loudly. "Don't eat too many refreshments."

He turned just long enough to flash her a mischievous grin, then headed back toward the refreshment tables.

Cari found that she had needed every minute with Cor to get through the next hour or so. She could not help but pay extremely close attention to her dance partners' faces for fear she would see a resemblance of the look Lord Devan had given her, so much so that she considered herself fortunate to have paid any attention to what they were saying. Furthermore, when not asking her about the Battle of the Flood, said dance partners – save for perhaps one or two – were remarking on what a spirited and energetic brother she had, and how fortunate she was to have brothers so eager to defend her honor.

_And not one of them is laughing inwardly over the antics of the crazy Archenlandic prince,_ Cari thought as she made her final curtsey to Duke Fergus of Galma.

Fortunately, Cari was allowed a short break before the final dance. As she stood by the refreshment tables taking deep breaths to calm herself, the two Narnian queens approached her and asked how she was doing. Seeing their very real concern, she rewarded them with a wan smile.

"I really am much better now," she answered, "especially as my last dance will be with Father again." Even as she finished her sentence, she reached up to stifle a yawn.

Queen Lucy smiled and laid a sympathetic hand on Cari's arm. "These large state balls really do take the energy out of you. That's why we always rise two hours later than usual after we host one." She grinned mischievously. "Besides, you'd have to throw several buckets of water on Edmund and Susan to get them up any earlier as it is."

Queen Susan threw her sister a mock-reproving look. "That's why we made the rule at two hours instead of one. You two early birds would run us completely ragged." She turned back to Cari. "Having such an enormous ball as your first one is rather like taking a bath and jumping into freezing water instead of warm water, but you get accustomed to them soon enough. Before you know it, you'll be having fun at them." Her voice gentled as she added, "And no one could tell this is your first ball, Cari. You've done so well; your dance mistress – not to mention all of Archenland – should be very proud of you."

"Or they're completely crazy," put in Queen Lucy, grinning.

Cari could not help but smile at this. "You are both very kind."

"No, just honest," replied Queen Lucy. "And if you don't believe us, we can ask anybody you like." Her eyes shifted slightly to Cari's left. "Right, Edmund?"

Cari turned to see King Edmund standing just behind her. "Oh – hello, King Edmund," she greeted him, even as he graced her with a deep bow.

"My congratulations to you, Princess Carisa," he replied, grinning broadly. "Even I have never been able to knock out Peter in such a spectacular fashion – although, believe me, I have tried."

Cari felt her cheeks flaming. "I did not intend to knock down or harm anybody, King Edmund," she protested.

The king waved her objection aside with a grand sweep of his arm. "No matter, Princess. I have already instructed myself never to anger either you or your brother, which is a very high honor indeed." His grin widened, and Cari's already-burning cheeks flushed pure scarlet, aided by the attention of a few lords who had gathered around the table nearby but had now turned to see what the king was doing.

"In fact," King Edmund went on, apparently oblivious to his growing audience, "I think I should pay your brother a visit to congratulate him on his role in your joint accomplishments. I doubt I could have done any better myself." He winked at Cari, whose eyes had widened considerably due to the fact that, near the beginning of the king's speech, the previous dance had ended, and the music had stopped, making King Edmund the only person in the ballroom who was speaking at that moment. A considerable number of those not speaking had shifted their eyes toward him and a now-mortified Cari.

"So," King Edmund finished, taking his wine glass from the table and lifting it, "I drink to your continued excellent health, Princess, and that of your brother Corin, for single-handedly knocking the High King of Narnia flat on the floor." He took a hearty sip from it, but in the middle of it the motion of his hand suddenly slowed as he finally realized the breadth of his audience. He hastened to set the glass down and bow as his own face reddened, though not nearly to the extent of Cari's.

Fortunately, a few answering raised glasses and a few more raised eyebrows, as well as a couple of guests who gave a few claps and hastily ceased, were the worst that Cari had to endure before the room's customary hubbub began again. However, King Edmund proved to be less fortunate. As soon as the others' attention had shifted away from them, Queen Susan gripped his arm firmly, marched him over to the corner beyond the right-hand table, and immediately began speaking vehemently to him. Cari could not hear the words, but the speed with which the king's expression and carriage wilted in the face of his much-shorter sister's scolding told her all she needed to know.

"I'm sorry, Cari," she eventually registered Queen Lucy saying somewhere off to the left of her. Turning, Cari was momentarily surprised to see the younger girl's face nearly as red as her own. "I think he just meant to cheer you up by being foolish, but he didn't understand it wasn't exactly – warranted. And so can I, too," she added hastily, her cheeks reddening a bit further. "I didn't mean to encourage him to put on that sort of – of display."

Cari shook her head. "You haven't done anything wrong, Queen Lucy; it's all right." She smiled weakly, but the younger girl clearly saw through the façade; she bit her lip with a sympathetic "Mmmm" and stepped forward to embrace Cari.

"You just made Archenland even prouder of you, you know," she said, as she stepped back. "And next year – " here her eyes picked up the slightest twinkle – "next year you can come to Narnia for your birthday, and Susan and I will have a lovely tea for you in the garden with all the ladies, and we'll sit out on the terrace and play Jump-Crystals. No balls allowed," she added, her voice taking on just the slightest hint of sternness, which was somehow all Cari could imagine Queen Lucy being able to muster. In spite of herself, Cari felt the hint of a smile creeping onto her face amidst the fading redness. Just then, however, she noticed her father approaching her behind the queen's shoulder.

As the younger girl turned to greet him, the king bowed. "I am sorry to disturb the conversation, Queen Lucy," he said, bowing, "but I believe I have one more dance tonight with my daughter."

"Of course, King Lune," the queen answered with a smile, and Cari bit her lip.

"I'm sorry, Father," she said. "I should have known it was time."

The king waved his hand. "No matter, my daughter. Besides, it is a few minutes early in any case. I have news for you that I thought it best to share outside the dance floor."

He escorted her out into the hallway and lowered his voice. "Are you sure you feel up to dancing, Carisa? No one would blame you for ending the evening at this point under the circumstances."

Cari reddened slightly, but shook her head as evenly as possible. "No, Father, I am perfectly all right."

The king put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "And rest assured I shall speak to King Edmund after the dance. He is a good man, but those of us gifted with a natural exuberance often find it accompanied by a lack of thought to which youth is especially prone to fall prey."

Once again, Cari shook her head. "No, Father, it's all right. I understand." _Besides, if Queen Susan has kept on going at the rate she was before, I am sure King Edmund stands at less than half her height by now._

Her father nodded. "I am sorry in any case for all of the commotion tonight, Carisa. However – " he cleared his throat as if to prepare for a dose of foul-tasting medicine – "I spoke with Corin, and although I could find no one who heard his conversation with Lords Devan and Etemar, I believe his account without doubt." An odd light Cari had not seen before kindled in his eyes; it took her a moment or two to recognize it, as she had never before seen her father truly angry. For a moment she even wondered if it was merely the angle of the lamps in the hallway, but she quickly dismissed that idea as the king spoke again.

"As I said before, I shall not tolerate nor ignore any abuse of any of my children within my halls. You shall not see either of these men – " his voice kindled along with his eyes here, causing Cari to take an involuntary step backward – "the title of lord becomes neither of them, and the title of man perhaps not either – in Anvard, nor indeed in Archenland, ever again." Seeing her widened eyes, he subsided somewhat as he placed a gentle hand on her arm. "You can always come to me, Carisa, if any guest, or, Aslan forbid, any other man here ever behaves so as to make you uncomfortable. As I have said, no man within my walls shall ever cause injury to you while I live." He bent down to meet her rain-gray gaze with his own. "You understand, Carisa, yes?"

Too overwhelmed for anything else, Cari nodded. "Yes, Father," she fairly whispered.

The king straightened and offered her his arm. "Good. Shall we dance, then?"

Once again, Cari nodded as they headed back into the ballroom.

Cari could never remember afterwards which type of dance it was, nor anything she and her father discussed during it, but she swept through it without a mistake, and it took some effort on her part to restrain an enormous sigh of relief when the dance ended. Even bidding her guests good night afterwards proved to be far less painful than she had feared, as her numbness finally began to override her nerves.

The four Narnians were the last guests to bid their hosts good night, and King Peter was the first of them. "Happy birthday again, Princess," he told Cari, bowing, "and thank you for hosting us all with such grace."

Cari, a bit taken aback by the gentle sincerity in his voice and eyes alike, nevertheless remembered to curtsey smoothly. "It has been my pleasure, King Peter, and – thank you for your kindness."

This elicited a warm smile from the king before he turned to greet King Lune, even as Queen Lucy approached Cari, embracing and thanking the older girl with hardly less enthusiasm than when she had first arrived on the previous day. Queen Susan gave her a gentle hug. Finally King Edmund approached, his face nearly as red as hers had been during his impromptu tribute to her.

"Princess Cari," he said with surprising steadiness after a moment or two, "I am ashamed for having embarrassed you so this evening. It was completely unintentional, but that does not excuse my even more complete thoughtlessness. As my sister so aptly pointed out, I acted like a rude, uncouth, thoughtless dunce." He bent slightly farther down and lowered his voice. "I truly am sorry, Princess, and I ask your pardon, though I know I do not deserve it."

Cari took as deep a breath as she could without appearing to, then, deeming herself sufficiently composed, nodded. "And you have it, King Edmund." _Just please don't say another word about it._

He nodded back gratefully. "I thank you, Princess, and I wish you the best of evenings."

She smiled politely. "And to you, King Edmund."

With all the guests safely out of the room and on the way to either their quarters or to one of the other halls for further entertainment, Cari stayed in the ballroom and, along with Cor, Aravis, and her father, took the time to properly thank all of the musicians and servants. Her father bid her an affectionate good-night at the foot of the stairs, as he was remaining a bit longer to have a word with his steward.

"You have acted as a true princess of Archenland tonight, Carisa," he said as he stepped back from embracing her. "You handled yourself with more grace than anyone could have expected. I am so proud of you, my daughter." His eyes softened as he added, "As would your mother have been, were she here."

Cari managed a genuine smile at this, even as her eyes began to water as much from nerves and fatigue as from anything else. After wishing her father a good night, she quickly turned and began to ascend the stairs that led to the welcome sanctuary of her apartments. As she reached the landing between the first and second floors – a fair-sized area with a side table and lamps that illuminated everything except the far corner, which was left half in shadow – she heard male voices close behind her. Knowing they could move more quickly than she could, with her voluminous skirts, and not wanting to encounter them if she could help it, she retreated into the darkened corner to await their passage.

"He wouldn't have checkmated you on the last round, Lord Zoltor," Cari heard one of the voices saying, "if you hadn't had too much Archenlandic wine. Otherwise, your head would have been clear enough to see his knight coming."

"Oh, he saw it coming, all right," replied another voice, which Cari recognized as that of Galma's Duke Theriot. "He just couldn't count. He thought it would only take one step forward, instead of two."

Some muffled laughter greeted this statement, along with a protest from the aforesaid Lord Zoltor.

"Now, that Prince Corin, he must have gone and had too much of that Archenlandic wine," he said. "Even I would not have taken on both Lord Devan and Lord Etemar at once."

One of the other men snorted. "Why? Jealous that he actually took one of them out?"

Before Lord Zoltor could answer, another man spoke up; Cari recognized him almost at once as Lord Altair of the Lone Islands.

"Now why would it have taken wine for the boy to do what any man should do whose sister's, or mother's, or daughter's honor is treated in that manner?" he inquired, and the others immediately hushed. "And it was a man's courage he showed, if a boy's thoughtlessness in how he approached it. I should think any one of us would be expected to stand up for the honor of one of our sisters, or indeed any woman, should we hear it abased thus."

Here Cari heard a few of the men clear their throats in discomfort before one of them, Duke Fergus of Galma, finally spoke up.

"The boy is known to be quick with his temper," he said, "and perhaps he merely perceived an insult. For all we know, the other lords were speaking of the princess's beauty in terms that men often use, but the boy was too young to understand."

"True enough," murmured one or two of the other voices.

This elicited a snort from Duke Theriot. "Or he may have perceived them correctly as terms that should never be used with reference to a woman."

"What, only to be used on a man, then?" put in one of the others, to the laughter of a couple of his compatriots.

Duke Theriot, however, was not so easily dissuaded. "To be used on no one, Prince Miroslav. Even a fourteen-year-old boy was man enough to recognize that."

"Whatever that case may be," said Lord Barnaby, "even if one does not see the shamefulness of the words – which I do – one can agree the lords were being entirely too free and foolhardy by using them about their host's daughter, and should have known better if they were not expecting to draw ire for their actions."

There were several murmurs of assent, after which the rest of the conversation became too faint for Cari to hear, but she did not care, having frozen into a leaning position against the landing wall.

_So much for the northern countries being different from Calormen. How many times did I hear the men in the village – even some of Arsheesh's visitors – use words like that?_

_Perhaps, but even then, nobody _ever _dared to insult his host's daughter after that fashion – ever! _

_Oh, yes, they dared, Cari, just not with words. You do remember the actions of a few of them…_

_Stop it! I'm not going to think about that again, especially tonight._ She shuddered. _No, no, no. I will _not _think about that again. _She closed her eyes and breathed in, then out, as deeply as she could. _No, I will not think about it. _ Slowly, she peeled herself away from the hall and trudged up the remaining stairs to her apartments. She barely said a word as Mara and Maria unlaced her gown and helped her get ready for bed, but she noticed as she passed the mirror on her way to the bed that she was trembling. Even the deepest breaths she could manage were not enough to still the shaking that had finally overwhelmed her.

_How on earth can I do this again and again, even without Corin crashing into people right and left? How on earth am I to attend event after event like this, whether in Archenland or anywhere else, and know whether any man who dances with or talks with me wouldn't have said the same things Lord Devan and Lord Etemar did? How do I know they wouldn't have looked at me the way Lord Devan did? And I'm sure I shall see Lords Devan and Etemar again at some point; how can I possibly face them after what happened tonight?_ She buried her face in her pillow, biting her lip to hold back the lump threatening to break its way out of her throat. _And how can Father and the others say I made Archenland proud? How could Father say Mother would have been proud of me?_

Cari bit back another sob. _Did you ever encounter behavior like this, Mother, before you married Father? What did you do about it? Oh, how I wish I could ask you._ She pinched the bridge of her nose tightly. _Of course, you did end up marrying Father, and I – no, I am not sure I shall ever marry. _She let out a slow, shaky sigh. _In every other way, though, I will try to be a daughter you can be proud of, Mother. Perhaps one day I will even be half the woman as a princess that you were as the Queen. Just not tonight. _

The last image in her mind's eye before she fell into an exhausted sleep was that of her mother's face beaming at her from the tapestry in the downstairs hallway.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE, PART 2: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! I am going to try and have the next one up in a timely fashion, but it will probably take a bit longer than usual due to some insanity in my offline life that involves a lot of moving in the near future. (And by "usual," I do **_**not **_**mean another seven months; that much I promise you as far as is humanly possible.) In the meantime, I look forward to hearing any feedback you feel moved to provide, and thanks again for reading!**


	33. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Yes, I am once again back, and once again sorry for taking so long to update my story. I have moved twice in the four months since I posted my last chapter, and I have discovered that frequent moving can take a lot of energy, creative and otherwise, out of a person. However, I do not plan to move again any time in the near future, so I will give myself no more excuses of that kind.**

**Without further ado…**

Despite her late bedtime, Cari awoke earlier than usual the following morning. After several fruitless tosses, shifts, and turns, she rose, donned one of her most comfortable day dresses, and snuck down the back stairs. As she headed around one of the corners, she nearly ran into a very familiar figure.

"Oh, Corin, I'm sorry!" she exclaimed, as he reached out a hand to steady her.

"You all right?" he asked, and she nodded.

"Sorry," Cari repeated. "I didn't think you'd be up yet."

"Or that Father would have let me out of my room yet?" replied her brother, one corner of his mouth quirking upwards. The look in his eyes, however, belied the teasing in his words.

Cari shook her head. "No, it's not that; you just usually like to sleep a bit later, and…" Her shoulders hunched upwards in the ghost of a shrug.

He returned the gesture. "No, but I woke up 'cause I was hungry. I figured I'd get something from the kitchens before breakfast."

Cari smiled. "Well, don't let me stop you, then. I know better than to get between you and your stomach." She half-winked at him.

Corin shrugged again. "You can go with me if you want," he said after a moment. Cari, her curiosity piqued by her brother's uncharacteristically subdued manner, nodded and quickly fell into step with him.

"Say, Cari," he said after a few moments, "I – I'm sorry I knocked you down last night; I really didn't mean to do it. I didn't even see you standing there – honest." He turned to glance at her, his blue eyes alight with sincerity. "I wouldn't – well, if I had seen you, I'd have knocked them down some place else." He rushed through the reference to Lord Devan and Lord Etemar so quickly, it was almost a mumble.

Despite Cari's eagerness to banish the two lords from her mind, she threw her brother a grateful look. "Corin," she said, then paused as he turned to look her squarely in the eyes. A few more moments passed as she bit the inside edge of her lip and tried to phrase her words as best she could. _How do I say this without letting him think I'm scared of my own shadow? After all, he doesn't have any idea of what happened back in Calormen, and the less he knows about it, the better. _

"I know you didn't mean to knock me down," she finally said. "That part of it was an accident, and I don't fault you for it. But I – well, thank you for standing up for me, Corin. I know it wasn't any fun having to stay in your room, but I'm grateful to you for doing it anyway."

Corin's cheeks momentarily reddened, but his eyes retained every ounce of sincerity, along with a strong hint of defiance.

"Well, I told you I would," he said. Seeing Cari's bemusement, he added, "You know, the day everybody got here. I told you I'd knock down anyone who had a go at you." The defiant light in his eyes brightened as he added, "And if anybody else tries it, I'll knock him down, too. I don't care how many weeks Father makes me stay in my room."

Cari could not help her lips from twisting upward then. "I don't think he'd keep you there for weeks, Corin," she said, "but thank you. And I know you would." Her smile turned into a gently teasing grin as she added, "That's why I keep you around, remember?"

It took all of half a second for him to answer her grin with one of his own. "Oh, come on, Cari. I _did _get Father to switch you to knife-throwing lessons, remember?"

Cari tilted her head, pretending to weigh his words carefully. "Oh, all right. I suppose that makes up for the rats – and maybe for the marbles on my chair when I first got here. You still owe me for the rest, though."

Corin opened his mouth in mock indignation. "What _rest_? I've been nothing but lovely ever since the rats." Before Cari could reply, he added quickly, "And Cor helped me with the marbles, anyway." Seeing Cari's considerably raised eyebrows, he turned both hands palms upward, as if to ward off her skepticism. "But he did!"

The two siblings bantered all the way down to the kitchens, where Cari sat at an out-of-the-way table watching her brother devour four butter-and-honey-laden biscuits with relish. He teased her with a piece of the last one until she finally gave in and ate it, despite her relative lack of hunger. On the way back upstairs, Corin regaled her with stories of the most outlandish birthday gifts he, his father, and various of the Narnian monarchs had ever received, and by the time they met up with the rest of the family to go to breakfast, Cari was smiling wholeheartedly.

The morning being a rainy one, everybody remained indoors to play games. Due largely, Cari guessed, to the preceding two late nights, as well as the ball's events, the atmosphere was a good deal more subdued than it had been since the guests had arrived, which pleased her considerably. For one thing, the fatigue made everybody quieter, and for another, most of the young lords were too tired to vie quite so fiercely for her attentions, although Cari suspected the latter also had to do with Corin's actions the previous evening.

_Not that I'm complaining about it, _she mused as she sat down to play Jump-Crystals with Cor, Queen Lucy, and King Peter. _I haven't had to answer nearly so many questions today as I did last night about the Battle of the Flood – besides which I've learned in the space of only a couple of hours that Prince Miroslav has lost but one archery contest since his fifteenth birthday, and that Duke Fergus saved his brother from drowning when they were children, and that Lord Jamarion actually hates history. Well, he didn't say it in as many words, but he said he began to love botany as a little boy, and that his tutors were always scolding him for falling behind at his history lessons. Of course, naturally each lord's homeland has the most beautiful gardens in the world, and the most bountiful crops, and the best-trained swordsmen and archers, but I'd still far rather hear about that than tell the fifteenth lord in a row that King Arbior was the son of King Croy and not King Tarmon._

After lunch, everybody adjourned to the west hall for the gift opening. Cari's nerves were slightly on edge at first, largely due to Corin's and Queen Lucy's accounts of receiving everything on their own birthdays from pet monkeys (Queen Lucy had received one on her sixteenth birthday from a Tarkaan) to a fur mantle adorned with five intact moose heads (the king of Nakorus had sent it to Archenland on Corin's tenth birthday, to his extreme delight). However, no such exotic treasures appeared among her presents, which turned out to be an assortment of gowns and jewel boxes and bracelets; the most unusual item she unwrapped was an elaborately painted porcelain rail formed into a spiraling, vine-like configuration with smaller shoots curving upward at intervals. She graciously thanked its giver, Duke Fergus of Galma, but a bit of her puzzlement must have shown, for he bowed and informed her just as graciously that Galmian women used similar objects for hanging their scarves – "although very few of those have been crafted of porcelain as fine as this, and only a selected few of those painted by Perrius, the finest porcelain painter in Galma, and quite possibly anywhere," he added with a nod. "But I find rare beauty appropriate under these circumstances."

Cari smiled and thanked him again before turning to her next gift. _Before last night I would rather have suffered a week's worth of Corin's pranks than see a display like that. Funny how a few hours of upheaval can change one's perspective so entirely – even if I do have to be extra careful not to thank any lord more or less enthusiastically than the others, for fear of being perceived as favoring a marriage suit from him in the future._

Fortunately for Cari, none of the lords seemed to think she favored him more or less than the others, at least not as far as she could tell. Even the remaining Terebinthian lords graciously accepted her thanks, which she had worded with extra care. _After all, they may not be at all as ill-mannered as the other two. It is not their fault that their counterparts insulted me._

Also to Cari's relief, the night's activities included no dancing; instead, King Lune held a grand dice-bowls tournament in the west hall. Despite the frenzied speed and excitement that accompanied the game, Cari found that it had quickly grown to rival Jump-Crystals as her favorite. She had become an excellent scorekeeper, and almost every time she began a round, whomever had been her previous partner nominated her for the task to the other two people at the table. During one particular round, she relinquished the duty to King Peter, who was also serving as her partner, only to notice that he had incorrectly recorded a five-point roll by Lady Altessa, sister to Lord Altair of the Lone Islands, as just one point in value.

_Blast it! _she thought as Lady Altessa handed the dice to her, with no indication from the king that he was aware of his error. _I _hate _to do this – but I can't be dishonest, either, especially not to my own advantage, even if it would be to King Peter's advantage as well._

"I – I'm sorry, King Peter," she finally said, "but you meant to write down sixty-seven points for them, correct – since Lady Altessa rolled two fives just then?"

This caused the heads of both Lady Altessa and Lord Dolan, her partner, to turn at once to the High King, who blinked with surprise and then stared intently at the score parchment for a moment. His eyebrows rose for a moment before he shook his head, then tapped it once with the flat of his hand.

"Oh, right, of course she did," he finally said, hastily scribbling out the number he had written just moments before. After correcting it, he shook his head again. "And here I thought Edmund was joking when he told me I couldn't keep score to save my own life. I am sorry about that," he added, setting down his lead quill. He nodded at Cari, who returned his gesture as graciously as she could despite her embarrassment. "Thank you, Princess. I think perhaps I should ask you to keep the score from now on."

"Oh – no, that's all right, King Peter, especially not mid-round," Cari replied quickly. Just as she began castigating herself for uttering the hint of a suggestion that the High King of Narnia's timing might be off, a whoop from one of the neighboring tables startled her into realizing that she was still holding the dice. She hastily threw them down, but her roll produced no points, and just as she was handing the dice off to Lord Dolan, the bell rang at the head table, signaling the end of the round.

_Oh, bother,_ thought Cari as she looked at the final tally, which showed that Lady Altessa's nearly-missed points had cost her and King Peter the round. _I may still have been able to save it had I rolled the dice more quickly; they may have gotten round to King Peter by the time the bell rang._

King Peter, however, did not seem bothered at all; he heartily congratulated Lord Dolan and Lady Altessa as they rose to head to the next table, then moved to sit in the chair immediately to Cari's right so that they would have new partners for the next round.

"Well played, Princess," he said as he sat.

"And the same to you, King Peter," she replied, just as his eye caught the scoring tablet and lead quill in the middle of the table.

"Ah! I think I should surrender these into your keeping right now, before I make any more mistakes with them," he said, grinning. "I think they are safer with you." As Cari half-smiled politely back at him, his own smile softened. "In any case," he continued, "Edmund has always been the mathematician in the family – even back before we came to Narnia."

This piqued Cari's interest. "You mean – when you were in the world you first lived in before the war with the White Witch?"

He nodded, a reminiscent gleam in his eyes. "Yes, back in England. He barely had to try to get excellent marks in his mathematics classes, whereas the rest of us actually had to work to earn them." The gleam softened as he added, "Each of us had our own strong suit, though, so it all worked out in the end."

Cari took a moment to digest this. "Did – were there great poets in that world as well, whose works you could study?" she finally asked.

The king grinned. "Oh, yes, and you are exactly on the mark – I was nearly as fond of classic literature then as I am now. Of course, Edmund and I were younger back then, and fonder of the outdoor exercises than we were of the scholarly subjects, but for each of us, certain classes were easier to sit through than others."

One corner of Cari's mouth quirked upwards ever so slightly as she thought of the fidgeting she, Cor, and Aravis had become accustomed to seeing from Corin during his history lessons. "And – did King Edmund like his literature courses, as well?"

King Peter held back a laugh. "Not particularly, no – no fonder than I was of my grammar classes, in any case." Cari could have sworn she saw the ghost of an aversive shudder cross his expression before he continued. "Susan absolutely loved hers, though. Actually, she knew more of my grammar texts than I did, and I was a level above her in school." He shook his head slightly, clearly having been about as fond of his grammar classes as Cari was of her economics lessons.

"And Queen Lucy?" she finally asked, as much out of curiosity as of a desire to change the subject.

This elicited a smile from the king. "Lucy was fond of the natural sciences from a very early age," he replied, "and she especially loved animals and studying anything to do with them. We had some friends who lived out in the country – we lived with our parents in a rather large city, so going out to the country was a novelty for us – and these friends of ours lived on a large farm. We went to see them once or twice a year, and Lucy was always the first one to head for the barnyard and feed the chickens – not to mention that she made great friends of all the cats and dogs and other animals. They couldn't talk, of course," he added quickly, "although that never stopped Lucy from talking to them, especially any that were hurt or sick. They could not have had a more attentive nurse," he added, the reminiscent expression re-emerging in his smile.

Cari smiled back. _That sounds exactly like something Queen Lucy would do._ Aloud she asked, "Were they the same kinds of animals – in that world, I mean – as there are in our own lands?"

This made the king's eyebrows knit together in concentration. "I think so – for the most part," he finally answered, giving his head a brief shake before looking her full in the face again. "You see, we did not actually see animals very often, living in the city and all, and it seems like a very long time ago to me." The smile returned as he added, "In which case my memory has begun to age more than I thought; it has not yet been ten years since we came to Narnia."

Cari opened her mouth to ask if the other world had had any fauns or centaurs, but she never got the chance, for just then Corin and Duke Fergus swept over from the next table, where they had previously been held up by a scoring disagreement. The Galmian nobleman stepped in the direction of the seat across from Cari, but Corin, with a few quick strides, reached the chair and planted himself in it before the young duke could do more than blink at him.

"Oh – sorry, Duke Fergus," the boy said innocently, even as the startled nobleman took the chair across from King Peter. "I thought you wouldn't mind partnering with the High King this round?"

"Of course not, Your Highness," answered the bemused duke, just as the bell rang to begin the next round. Cari raised her eyebrows ever so slightly at her brother, whose eyes narrowed ever so slightly and ever so much more resolutely in return.

Cari restrained herself from rolling her eyes at him as King Peter passed her the dice. _At least he didn't shove Duke Fergus straight out of the way._

Over the next few days, the guests left Anvard amid a profusion of compliments for Cari and invitations for her to visit them in their own lands at any time that should be most convenient for her and for His Majesty her father. Cari thanked them all graciously, taking care to refrain from promising any return visits even as she surprised herself by remembering to curtsey correctly to every lord and lady as they departed.

The Narnians were the last to leave, and Cari allowed herself to relax a bit as she curtsied to them in the now-familiar northern style before heading over to embrace Bren, Bree, and Hwin in farewell. _Ouch. I didn't realize I'd stiffened my back so much when I was curtseying to everybody else._

Both queens embraced Cari warmly just before mounting their horses. All four monarchs exchanged their final goodbyes with King Lune and his family amid a flurry of excitement over the Archenlanders' newly-confirmed plans to visit Narnia for the latter's harvest festival that autumn. Queen Lucy, after hugging Cari, mounted her horse just as Corin began boasting that he would surely shoot at least one stag for the feast, if not two.

"No, you shall not, Corin." King Lune was quick to interrupt his younger son. "You know full well you may not participate in the hunt until next year, when you are sixteen. And if you try to sneak in amidst the hunters again as you did the last time we hunted in Narnia, you shall not have another try until you are seventeen."

Corin reddened at this, even as Cor, who was standing two steps away, hastily turned a snort of laughter into a cough behind his hand. Even Aravis and Cari could not keep from grinning.

"However, Corin," King Edmund interjected, "I am planning to go climbing on the sea-cliffs after the feast, and I would be honored to have you, and such of your siblings as would like to come, join me."

Corin tried to affect nonchalance at this, but the idea clearly appealed to him, and he turned to his father, who nodded. By the time he faced King Edmund again, he was grinning broadly. "Excellent – thank you, King Edmund," he said, and then one corner of his mouth quirked mischievously. "You mean the mud cliffs, too, then?"

"No," replied Queen Susan and King Lune in unison. Both Narnian kings, along with Queen Lucy, bit their lips to keep from laughing. Even Corin, who clearly had not been expecting any other answer, smiled.

"What are the mud cliffs you were asking King Edmund about, Corin?" asked Aravis later that evening, as the siblings played Jump-Crystals in the solar.

"Oh, they're cliffs near Cair Paravel that expand every year over the summer," Corin answered, dropping one of his crystals into an empty pocket on the board and removing four of Cor's, handing them to his disgruntled twin with a flourish. "The two rivers over by there carry some kind of special silt out of the northern moors – King Edmund and Queen Lucy can explain it better than I can. Anyway, the silt gathers there and mixes with the dirt from the cliffs, so they expand. Then, when the autumn rains come, they wash all of it away and make a huge mudslide out of it and wash it all into the sea. It's supposed to be spectacular fun to see it, especially if you're right out by the seashore while it's happening."

"And therefore getting washed completely away with the mud, Corin," Cari pointed out, jumping a pocket with five of his crystals in it.

Corin made a face as she handed him the pebbles. "Not if you stay far enough from the mudslide," he answered. "Besides, King Edmund goes climbing out there all the time. He knows all the safe spots."

Cor hooted with laughter at this. "'Cause there's nothing you like more than safe spots, Corin," he needled his brother, "especially when there's mud around for you to get into."

Corin mock-glared at his twin. "There'll be plenty of mud for _you _to get into tomorrow, when I knock you down into the puddles outside the sword-ring after practice," he retorted.

Aravis rolled her eyes as she dropped one of her crystals over a pocket that held most of both twins' remaining stones, causing them to promptly forget about everything related to mud as they roundly protested her maneuver.

The following day most of the castle, along with all of the provincial governors, gathered in the throne room to watch King Lune place the crown of state, which had been worn by every eldest princess in Archenland's royal family since Queen Anya during her own father's reign, on his daughter's head. Cari, who had steadily managed her way through the ceremony preceding it, sighed with relief as she rose, crown firmly planted on her head, to the applause of the room's inhabitants as her father proclaimed her fit for official duties on behalf of her country.

_I suppose I should be thankful this ceremony didn't happen a week ago, as it was supposed to, since the blizzard delayed the governors of Berg and Kemmern_, mused Cari as she swept out of the hall on her father's arm. _Technically, I would have undergone that entire ball fiasco while doing an official duty – not that that matters much either way, as it still happened. This has not exactly been an auspicious beginning to my life of official responsibilities._

_No. It can certainly get better, though. I swore to perform all of my duties to the very best of my ability, and so I shall. Mother was thrown into an even more difficult situation than I, as she became a queen and not merely a princess, and by all accounts she handled it beautifully and without complaining. I may not be able to handle it beautifully, but I can with determination handle it well enough – and I shall not complain, either._

Fortunately for Cari, her first official duty after the ceremony gave her little cause to complain, as it involved writing letters thanking the guests who had attended her birthday celebration for their gifts. _Or, rather, I have no cause to complain about anything outside of my own actions_, she mused as she signed her missive to Lord Altair and Lady Altessa of the Lone Islands. _I've still spent too much time on each of these letters. I should have had them all done yesterday, and I have not yet finished three-quarters of them. _She sighed, shaking a cramp out of her hand. _At least I've managed to make each one unique enough to its recipient – I think – and Master Sofer hasn't sent back any of them for revisions._

The weather warmed considerably just as the last of the letters made its way out of Archenland. By the end of the month, when the spring planting festival was held at the castle farm, the early spring flowers had begun opening under the increasing daylight, and the ground had not only dried from the runoff of the melted snow, but also begun bursting with the first wave of green shoots.

The spring planting festival proved to be a smaller, less formal affair than the harvest and Yule festivals had been, which Cari considered a point in its favor. She found herself a good deal more at home among the farm's attendants in the freshly-plowed fields where the royal family planted the ceremonial first crops than she had ever felt at the head of a feast table before a large and gaily-attired audience. She had, after all, tended Arsheesh's meager herb garden in Calormen, although the rich loam around Anvard promised a far greater yield than had the thin, sandy soil out of which she had spent countless hours trying to coax a few spindly shoots.

The seedlings planted at the festival had just begun to sprout when Cor and Corin celebrated their fifteenth birthday. Aravis and Cari, by mutual agreement, repaid the twins for their antics on Cari's birthday by enthusiastically embracing both boys as the latter left their apartments that morning.

"Happy birthday, Cor! Happy birthday, Corin!" they chorused in their sweetest voices, which elicited two very pronounced eyerolls to accompany the twins' frantic attempts to free themselves. They succeeded in short order; Cari barely had time to note how much stronger her brother had grown over the course of a year before he had pried himself free from her grasp. Corin managed the same with Aravis a second or two later, muttering something about girls under his breath.

All was forgiven, however, when the twins opened the two girls' joint present to them, a lovely ninepins set that Cari and Aravis had had made out of a tree that had fallen along the road to the castle farm the previous autumn. The two carpenters had covered all of the pieces with a varnish that made them resistant to rain spoilage, so once they had finished opening their gifts, the twins carried the entire set out onto one of the terraces. After playing a few rounds, most of which Corin won handily, they invited the two girls to participate. The first round did not go to Cari's liking, as she found herself out of practice with the rings, but by the second bout she had re-accustomed herself enough to battle Corin to a near-draw, and she won the next three matches outright. She would have won a fourth but for the appearance of King Lune, who eagerly entered the game and defeated her by a point.

"Your skills are quite remarkable, Cari," he complimented her as they trooped inside three matches later. "I should warrant there are not many in Arch province who would have made your last two throws."

Cari bent her head even as she felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment. "Those were as much luck as skill, Father," she replied.

The king merely shook his head and continued beaming at her. "Even were that so, there must be some measure of skill involved to arc the throws as you did. And I know better than to believe there was so much luck as all that." His eyes gleamed reminiscently as he added, "You must not forget that I have thrown matches with your Aunt Lina, not to mention a few others of her caliber, which is high indeed. Therefore, I know of what I speak when I say you have far over the common level of skill, and more besides. Master Ordell should count himself fortunate."

Cari smiled in spite of her reddened face. "And I count myself fortunate to have him, Father. I could not ask for a better knife master." A teasing spark flickered into her eyes as she looked back up at the king. "As my success has just proven, he is an excellent teacher, for even the most gifted knife-thrower must have guidance as well as luck."

King Lune's booming laugh rang out across the terrace. "But none can teach your wit and way with words, Cari – or, I wager, match them either." He gathered her closer to his side as the two strode through the doorway. "I can scarce believe it has not yet been a year yet since you and your brother made your way here; it seems much longer that my life has been filled with so much joy." He turned to look straight into her eyes as he added, "And the first day alone, and every day since, has been worth every hour of waiting and wondering and sorrow we endured before that time."

The light of the setting sun pouring through the windows illuminated the unshed tears in the king's eyes, which elicited a rush of warmth in Cari despite the cool spring air. "And for me as well, Father."

In between lessons and exams, Cari spent the remainder of the month preparing for the family's upcoming visit to the province of Berg, where the king was scheduled to meet with the carpenters', woodcutters', stonemasons', and metalworkers' guilds. Although Cari would not take part in the meeting, she would share the noon meal with several of the guild members' wives and daughters. "Just a friendly dinner and chat," her father assured her, although it did not do much to calm Cari's nerves, which had leaped into action at the prospect of her first official social engagement. Soon afterward, however, the family received a letter from Lord Dorn and Lady Lara indicating that Cari's aunt would be attending the event with Danielle, and Cari breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

To reassure herself further, Cari diligently gathered all the information she could about Berg, from the booming trade produced by its heavily forested mountains to the carnival held every year late in the spring in the capital city of Breck. _After all,_ she mused late one night, yawning as she turned the twentieth page in a chapter about the province's role in the Great Western War, _I am less likely to stutter like an idiot if I know something about the place I am going and the subjects that are likely to be discussed at the dinner. I do not care how many headaches I get during my preparations; they're sure to be more than worth the pain._ She yawned again and rubbed the back of her head, which had begun to throb a few hours earlier. _Blast it. I'd best get to bed very soon if I do not want a worse headache tomorrow._

Cari did indeed have a worse headache when she woke up the next morning, and it grew steadily more severe throughout the day. To make matters worse, she began feeling unusually warm during breakfast, and the sensation had blossomed into a full-blown fever by early afternoon.

_Oh, blast it,_ Cari groaned inwardly as she took out her books for the siblings' afternoon history lesson. _This feels like exactly the same kind of sickness I had at the Hermit's dwelling, and again after the harvest festival, and I haven't even been exerting any unusual effort this time. Why have I become so weak?_ She turned to the day's chapter, having taken at least twice her usual time to find her place. _Perhaps it just feels the same, but isn't. Maybe all I need is a bit of rest, and this awful headache will lessen or even leave. But I cannot miss knife-throwing practice, or any of my other lessons, so I suppose I shall just have to wait until this evening, when I can retire early. _She let out a slow sigh, gritting her teeth against the pain. _Blast. If I can wait that long._

"Princess Cari?" Master Dorian, on whom she had found it increasingly difficult to concentrate, addressed her for the second or third time in a row halfway through the lesson.

Cari's head, which she had been holding up with her hand in a vain attempt to assuage some of the pain, twitched upward, sending a fresh twinge through her already aching body. "Yes – I'm sorry, Master Dorian?"

The old tutor's eyes narrowed in concern as he asked her the question he had no doubt repeated at least once already. "Would you please name and give the lineage of the last queen of Narnia before the invasion of the White Witch?"

Cari knew the answer, but it took several moments for the fog of pain to clear from her head and allow her to give it. "Queen – Bre – oh, no, sorry, that was her husband the king…Queen…Queen Mara, Master Dorian," she finally managed. In between deep breaths to regulate the pain, she stumbled through the said queen's lineage, a task that ordinarily would have taken her barely a minute but now took her two or three.

_At least I got it correct,_ she thought as she gingerly lowered her face, now flushed from embarrassment as well as from fever, back onto her hand. She did, however, catch the concerned expression on Master Dorian's face, and she also noticed that he did not ask her any more questions for the duration of the lesson.

When the time came for the siblings to go outdoors for their lessons with the knife and sword, it took all of Cari's willpower to force herself out of her seat, and as she stood, a wave of dizziness nearly knocked her back into it. Closing her eyes, she waited until the feeling passed and stepped toward the door. The minute her hand left the solid oak desk, however, she knew it had been a mistake, for she felt herself sway wildly; she would have fallen over had Corin not noticed her plight and reached out to keep her from collapsing.

"Blast, Cari, you look awful," he observed, steadying her with both hands. "Are you sure you want to go knife throwing?" He nodded at her right arm, which was trembling under the weight of the two books she was carrying. "One shake like that, and you'd make Master Ordell the finest pincushion in Anvard."

Ordinarily Cari would have rolled her eyes at him, but she knew without attempting it that the resulting pain would not be worth the effort. _Besides, he's more than half right._

"I'll be fine once I put these down, Corin," she managed, wincing inwardly at the pinch of pain produced by every word.

Her brother promptly graced her with the eyeroll she had wished to give him. "Sure, you will." Still holding onto her arm, he glanced toward the doorway, where Cor and Aravis were arguing intently. "Cor, come help me get Cari to her room. You'll be helping save Master Ordell's life, since she thinks she's still fit to go knife-throwing."

The argument stopped abruptly as both of its participants turned to Corin and Cari. Aravis raised both eyebrows, which Cari knew meant especial concern, and Cor was by his brother's side in less time than it took for his sister's tired eyes to produce another slow, painful blink. He had taken her other arm before she realized it, and a moment later Aravis had snatched her books and then reached up to feel her forehead. She quickly drew her hand back as her eyes widened.

"You're burning with fever, Cari," she said at once. "You should see Master Salus or Mistress Thamina right away." She turned to the twins. "You two get her to her room. I shall run to the healers' quarters and then find Father Lune straight away."

"Right, then, Your Highness," Cor replied, as he almost always did when arguing with Aravis. The younger girl rolled her eyes at him, then promptly darted away, and just as quickly, Cari found herself being frog-marched upstairs to her quarters over her weak protests. The three siblings had barely gotten through the entrance when Mara, who had just walked in herself with an armful of Cari's dresses fresh from the castle laundresses, took one look at them and immediately began fussing over Cari. Cari's head was too clouded for her to make out the servant's exact words, but the worried tone was unmistakable. Before she could blink more than a few times, she felt herself being escorted to her bedroom and helped onto her bed. After a few firm words from Mara, she heard one set of footsteps, which she knew were Corin's, quickly trot off, and sensed rather than saw Cor's face bending toward her own.

"Don't worry, Cari, you'll be fine," he said, although Cari's trained ear could detect the twinge of worry in his voice. "Corin and I are going to find Father, and Aravis'll have Master Salus and Mistress Thamina up in no time."

Cari blinked again – _ouch_ – in vain hopes of making her brother's face appear more clearly. "I don't need both, Cor, it's not that – that bad…don't worry so much," she managed before Mara appeared at her elbow with a tumbler full of water and propped her head up so she could drink from it. She thought she felt Cor's hand brush her shoulder before he disappeared through the doorway.

Not a quarter of an hour later, the bespectacled Master Salus, accompanied by one of the castle's younger female healers, had appeared at Cari's bedside. He felt her forehead and hands, then asked her a few questions which, simple as they were, required a heavy dose of effort on her part to answer. Answer them she did, however, and eventually the man turned to speak to Mara. After a brief conversation, the younger healer departed, only to give a startled exclamation when she reached the next room. A few moments later, a worried King Lune swept into the bedchamber. At any other time, his booming voice would have been a welcome sound to Cari's ears, but now it made her shut her eyes tightly against the overwhelming echoes it produced in her ears. Fortunately, Master Salus seemed to have guessed at this, since after a very short time he had withdrawn to the next room with the flustered king. Meanwhile, Mara, who had just been joined by a very worried Maria, helped Cari to undress and helped her into a comfortable set of nightclothes, whose sleeves both servants promptly rolled up. A few moments later, Cari felt the most welcome sensation of cool, water-soaked cloths being set on her arms, legs, neck, and forehead.

"Does that feel better, Princess Cari?" Maria asked anxiously. Cari nodded as best she could and managed a whispered "Yes, thank you, Maria – thank you, Mariel – I mean Mara, sorry," before what was no doubt a light tap on her bedroom door, but sounded like a most dreadful banging to Cari, drove away most of the relief she had felt. Mara went to the source of the noise and admitted the younger healer, who had returned with some herbs. Master Salus and the king were quick to follow her, and they held a brief conversation with Mara while Maria and the healer bustled about at Cari's side, no doubt adding the provided herbs to nearby pitchers of water. Amid the swishing of the water and the girl's whispered instructions to Maria, Cari discerned Master Salus's voice several feet away.

"She is warmer to the touch than when she became ill last autumn, you say?" he was asking.

"Yes, she is, as far as I can remember," answered Mara, before a loud splash, followed by a quick apology from Maria, drowned out the worried conversation.

_Oh, blast it,_ was Cari's last thought before a fresh wave of pain inundated her head, making it spin what seemed to be several hundred times in succession.

The next few days passed much as had Cari's previous bouts with the illness. As she had the previous autumn, she saw the rippling stream of light, its colors constantly transforming in a flowing progression that alternately startled and soothed her. This time, however, the flow was interrupted by a speck of deep golden-brown light that leaped in front of the colorful river and assumed a form that Cari could not quite make out, but that seemed oddly familiar. It trotted – _oh, so those are legs, after all_ – toward the light before turning its head toward her. A blur of bright green crowned its head – _or are there two of them? _ – and she struggled mightily to recognize the creature, as one might grasp around one's memory when confronted with a stranger whom one knows one ought to recognize from some half-forgotten, yet significant encounter from years ago.

But, try as she might, Cari could not identify the creature, and darkness overcame her once more, until a low voice at her elbow woke her and bid her drink more water. The herb-sweetened liquid had barely passed down her throat and begun to cool her burning insides when she was laid back down, and the person who presumably belonged to the murmuring voice removed some coverings over her arms, which she had not been aware of until that moment, and replaced them with some chilled wet cloths. Soon she felt similar remedies being applied to her neck and forehead, and then to her stomach and waist, although a thin barrier of drier cloth tempered the effects of the last few. It was only when Mara and Mistress Thamina, whom Cari finally recognized by the light of the lamp on her night table, gently raised her and replaced a cloth underneath her back with another, colder one that she realized the cloths were being applied over her nightgown. Mara, while wrapping still more cloths around Cari's waist, murmured something to the healer; Cari thought she caught the words "been changing her cloths a good bit more often this time" before she drifted back into darkness.

The vision of the familiar creature amid the swirling colors never returned, but Cari's consciousness did, and the first thing she noticed was that she felt much less feverish and achy than she had previously. Her condition steadily improved until, three days since she had first become ill, Mistress Thamina pronounced her fit to rise and resume her usual activities. Both of her brothers took great delight in this proclamation, for it gave them license to tease her at the breakfast table about being further behind in her schoolwork than they were.

"Had she been ill but one less day, Corin, she should still have been ahead of you," King Lune remarked as he speared another bite of roast ham. "You have little to boast about, if it takes three days of illness for your sister to fall only a little bit behind you."

Corin's face reddened, and Cor, sitting on the other side of Cari, snickered into his eggs. Even Aravis smiled, as Cari would have had she not been midway through a bite of food at the time.

"It's true I have plenty of catching up to do, but I shall work my hardest, Father," she assured the king. "I caught up fairly quickly last time."

King Lune smiled warmly at her. "I know that, my daughter, and I have every confidence that you shall do so this time as well. I only wish that a bit of your diligence and responsibility might transfer itself to your brother." He raised a meaningful eyebrow at Corin, who at that moment was in the midst of giving his brother a very dirty look.

_I suppose I should just be grateful I didn't transfer my illness to him, too,_ Cari mused as she took another bite. _He would complain to high heaven about being so far behind, and Cor would never let him hear the end of it._

The meal had ended before the feeling that had nagged at the back of Cari's mind since she had awakened that morning finally voiced itself. _It is rather a wonder that Cor, Corin, and Aravis haven't become ill along with me before. Such illnesses usually catch on to more than one person. Perhaps my constitution has not yet adjusted itself to the northern air; I've heard that such long journeys as mine to new homes can have such effects. I suppose I should just be thankful that of Cor, Aravis, and me, I am the only one who has had any such problems._

As she had assured her father, Cari quickly made up for the schoolwork she had missed. However, following the relative lull after the ball, her days had become busier again, as preparations were being made for the family's journey to Berg. She spent most of her evening time in the bower with her ladies-in-waiting, learning the names of the ladies she would meet at the luncheon there, along with those of their husbands and family members. At her request, they questioned her about all of the information they had given her, in order to ensure that she had learned it properly. The ladies took turns asking different questions at random, and once Cari had responded correctly three times to any given question, they stopped asking it of her. The night before the family's departure, they gave her a grand review in a stunning display of efficiency. No sooner had she informed Lady Takiel that Lady Kappa, wife of one of the three viceroys of the stonemasons' guild, was deaf in her left ear and not her right, than Lady Ketria asked her which current guild head had seen both his father and his grandfather serve as heads of a different guild before him. A few questions after that, Lady Isabel wished to know the status of the new safety regulations the woodcutters' guild was attempting to pass after an accident just over a year previously in which three trees had been felled in the midst of a torrential downpour and caused a mudslide that had killed twenty-six men. Two hours later, Cari left the bower with both a spinning head and her ladies' assurances that she had mastered more than enough details to do splendidly on her trip.

Lost in her thoughts, Cari bumped into a startled Aravis at the foot of the staircase leading up to their apartments.

"Oh – I'm sorry, Aravis!" she exclaimed, holding out a hand to steady the younger girl. "I didn't see you."

Aravis waved off the apology. "No harm done." She tilted her head, an amused expression on her face. "Did you really just get done having your ladies grill you about all of the people you're meeting?"

Cari's answering gaze clearly asked, _Why not?_, even as she replied, "Well, I believe it's better to be over-prepared than under-prepared."

Aravis conceded the point. "I suppose I should as well, were I you. I know the names and guild memberships of all those we are expected to meet, but I still get muddled trying to keep all of their families and connections straight." As the two girls entered the main door to Cari's quarters in tandem with sharp bows from Soren and Theodore, she added a bit sheepishly, "And I am sure I have not a fraction of your knowledge of the history and economics of the province."

Cari shrugged off the compliment. "I am sure you know more than you give yourself credit for, Aravis."

The younger girl answered with a pointed glance. "Next time you say that, remember to look in the mirror." By the time the bemused Cari had recovered, she had passed through the doorway into her own chambers for the night.

Fortunately for Cari and her family, none of the late spring snows about which she had heard so much plagued them en route to the manor of Lord Herm, head of the stonemasons' guild, which they reached late on the third day of their travels. They were welcomed warmly and treated to a fine dinner that included, among other things, a side of roast mountain goat, which Cari had never tasted before but found she liked rather more than she had anticipated.

The next day, Lord Herm, his wife, and two of their sons accompanied the royal family on their descent from the crags upon which the manor was perched into the valley that held the city of Breck. Cari bit her lip so often that she bruised it due to the path's steepness and many turns, but Naka and the other horses proved as surefooted as ever. When they reached the bottom, Corin noticed the relief on the faces of his siblings and Aravis, and at once gaily declared that according to his reckoning, the path grew easier every year, which earned him three very sharp looks when King Lune turned his head to speak to Lord Herm.

The carpenters' guild was headquartered in a spacious hall next door to the wood shop of which Corin had told the other siblings the previous autumn. King Lune stopped in to greet the shop workers before he and Cor departed for the guild meeting. Tovin, Kellor, and Helma, the three carpenters' apprentices of whom he had spoken, took Aravis and Cari on a quick tour of the building before settling them next to Corin in one of the back rooms. Corin was allowed to try his hand at one or two of the smaller carving tools, while the two girls, neither of whom had any real woodworking experience, were assigned to sandpapering boards at opposite ends of one of the tables. They passed a few relatively uneventful hours that way, although Cari's sandpaper slipped and swept onto her fingertips enough times to leave a couple of them reddened.

Just before midday, Helma, a stout, dark-haired girl about Cari's age, led her into another part of the shop to change into the dress she would be wearing to the luncheon.

"Will you be attending, then, too, Helma?" Cari queried as the girl turned to leave her to her privacy.

Helma's freckled face split into a gale of surprisingly musical laughter. "Oh, no, Princess! I'm not all that important; I'm not even a guild member yet, and if I were, I should be joining the other meeting – the one your father's at, that is. Besides," she added with a grin, "somebody's got to keep the shop running and look after Lady Aravis and Prince Corin." She winked as the door closed behind her.

To Cari's delight, when she exited the room, she found her aunt and cousin waiting for her. Lady Lara greeted her with a warm smile, and Danielle with an enthusiastic hug.

The day being a warm, sunny one, lunch was served on the stone terrace behind the guild hall. "We stole it from Uncle Lune and the guild members," Danielle informed Cari, grinning. "For the last few guild meetings, they have had their lunch out here, but since there's a princess now to have a ladies' luncheon, we get it for the first time in years – well, the first time since I was a very little girl," she added more slowly, her tone taking on a gravity Cari had not heard from her before.

"You mean, since the last time my mother was here?" she asked after a few moments.

Her cousin nodded, her face now a fine shade of pink. "I'm sorry, Cari," she said, biting her lip. "I talk too much, and I get ahead of myself sometimes, and – I – I didn't mean to upset you."

"Oh, no, Danielle, it's all right." Cari's quick reassurance of the younger girl surprised her. "I know you didn't mean anything by it." She paused for a few moments and forced her hand back from its journey in the direction of her earlobe before adding, "I am sure my mother would be glad that the ladies' luncheons have resumed, in any case." _And from everything I know of her, that much at least is the truth._ She smiled kindly at her still-uncertain cousin. "Really, Danielle, it's all right. And I'm very glad to see you here." _Also true; I am very grateful my ladies-in-waiting have accompanied me, but it is not quite the same as having family members along to help me face a few dozen strangers._

Despite her misgivings, Cari flawlessly greeted every lady who attended the gathering. She asked after each one's husband by name, and remembered with only the slightest hesitation to speak into Lady Kappa's right ear. Once all of the guests had gathered, she welcomed them without having to refer even once to the parchment she had surreptitiously pulled out of her left pocket, which held the notes she had memorized and repeated to herself innumerable times to form a solid basis Mistress Morenna for drilling into her the ability to reach for the proper utensils without pausing.

After what had happened at her birthday ball, Cari was not in the least surprised when she noticed the ladies' curiosity about her knowledge of Archenlandic history. However, unlike the lords at the ball, they spoke about historical events other than the Great Western War. And when she took the opportunity to ask Lady Kappa a question about a legend she had read during her preparations concerning the great stonemason who had supposedly built the guild hall in three years' time with only the help of his five sons, none of the other ladies attempted to steer the conversation back to the war in question. Although economics and trade had never been Cari's favorite subjects of study, she found that the ladies, as a rule, were not only thoroughly knowledgeable about such matters in relation to the guilds of which they and their husbands were members, but also able to give insights that Cari's textbooks could not convey. Her books, after all, had never bothered to mention that the woodcutters' guild heads had been informally referred to as "rum Robins" because, over three centuries previously, the head of the woodcutters' guild had repeatedly refused to sign an agreement allowing the carpenters within its membership to split off and form their own guild, and so the head of the fledgling carpenters' guild had taken him to a local pub and challenged him to a drinking contest in order to get him to sign the document. Nor had she read anywhere that the woodcutters' and stonemasons' guilds had feuded more than any other two guilds in Archenland; as Lord Herm's wife, Lady Raina, took the lead in explaining, the two guilds required different types of metal for the tools they used in their work, and the metalworkers' guild members tended to favor either one guild or the other in their production of tools, depending on which guild one spoke to. Further complicating matters was the state of taxes on different kinds of metal, which changed as new lodes were discovered in the mines, making some metals more common than others. In addition, new safety regulations, when they were made and enforced, could change the amount of time it took to mine a metal or produce an alloy. "Much as the higher training requirements the woodcutters passed ten years ago for the large-toothed felling saws made oak and the other naturally harder woods scarcer," Lady Lara explained, to general assent from the other women. Seeing Cari's quizzical look, she added, "Those particular tools worked the best on the harder woods; the softer woods only needed lower-grade tools. Once the guild began requiring members to have more training before using the heavier tools, the number of members who could use them temporarily declined, as did their harvest. They eventually caught up a year or two later, once more members had completed the advanced training."

"Instead of apprising their members beforehand and getting them trained in time to prevent such a shortage, of course," added Lady Kappa loudly. "And as I've told Dor many a time, if those of us as had husbands in the guilds back then had been the ones in charge, we would have seen nary a hitch, rather than hold up everything with a lot of regulations and complications."

Cari was slightly taken aback, but the ladies around her greeted Lady Kappa's proclamation with amused assent; apparently the discussion had been held before, and with much the same result.

"So do you anticipate a smoother passage for the proposed new safety regulations the woodcutters' guild will discuss today, Lady Mila?" Cari asked, turning to a black-haired woman who looked to be around thirty years of age, one of the few who had remained silent throughout the entire discussion.

Lady Mila started ever so slightly, even as an expression of sorrow mixed with something less easily definable swept across her face.

"I should hope so," she finally replied in a stilted voice. "I have been hoping for it ever since my dear husband and son were killed in the mudslide last spring."

Halfway through Lady Mila's statement, the blood began to drain from Cari's face; she had remembered, too late, that it was indeed Lady Mila, and not Lady Mira, who had lost two members of her family in the accident. By the time Lady Mila had finished speaking, her face had taken on the hue of the fish bones Arsheesh had occasionally bleached and kept after stripping the skin and meat off of them.

"I – Lady Mila, I – I am so sorry for your loss," she managed to say, unable to keep the quiver out of her voice entirely. "I certainly do hope the rules are settled even now, as we speak." _Or rather, even as I put my foot straight in my mouth. I completely deserve every stare I got just then, and worse._

Fortunately, Lady Lara ended the awkward silence that ensued by changing the subject of the conversation altogether. Cari shot her a grateful glance, even as the color returned to her cheeks tenfold. Even the sympathetic looks she got from her ladies-in-waiting, though no doubt well-intentioned, could do nothing to abate the flood of crimson that quickly made her cheeks as bright as they had been pale mere minutes before.

Cari never remembered afterward exactly what the group talked about following her mishap, recalling instead only the warm relief that swept over her when the luncheon was called to an end. She hesitated for several moments before heading in Lady Mila's direction.

"I am so sorry for my thoughtlessness earlier, Lady Mila," she managed when she caught up with the older woman. "I truly did not mean to insult the memory of – of Lord Arbon or Lord Neft in any way."

"I am sure you did not, Princess Carisa," answered the woman, with no discernible change of expression. Cari opened her mouth, hoping to erase some of the woman's evident coldness, but was interrupted by a gentle hand on her arm. Turning, she saw Lady Lara at her elbow. The look on her face silenced Cari's unspoken protests at once.

"My condolences to you also, Lady Mila," she said quietly. "I hope Maya feels better soon."

The other woman gave a slight nod as she turned away, leaving Cari alone with her aunt, who promptly steered her toward the wood shop.

"I – I am sorry, Aunt Lara," Cari managed in a desperate effort to break the awkward silence. "I did not mean to lose track of the time, and I – I am sorry I addressed Lady Mila the way I did. I – I had momentarily confused her with Lady Mira. I did not mean to misspeak in the way that I did."

By this point they had reached the room in which Cari had dressed for the luncheon. Lady Lara stopped outside the doorway.

"May I accompany you in for a moment, Carisa?" she asked, her voice serious. Her expression, however, betrayed nothing of the disapproval Cari felt sure she must be feeling. However, she merely said, "Of course," and opened the door.

Once inside, Lady Lara laid her hand back on Cari's arm. "I know it was a completely unintentional mistake, Carisa," she said. "Such things can happen to anyone. The grief, however, is still fresh with Lady Mila. She is a friend of mine, and I know that she and her daughters took the loss very hard."

_And I reminded her of it all over again. It's a wonder she didn't look angrier,_ thought Cari, lowering her head in shame. _Thank heavens for Aunt Lara; I thought Lady Mila looked much less upset when she saw her._

"I – I should make it up to her, then," she said in a small voice when she finally raised her head. "When we get back to Anvard, I shall send a letter of apology and condolence to her and her daughters – perhaps with a gift."

Lady Lara shook her head firmly. "That would not do, Carisa," she informed her bemused niece. "Lady Mila's family was not the only one affected by what happened. If she, and none the others, were to receive a letter or gift, you – and, by extension, your father – would be perceived as favoring her family above the others. Moreover, it would give the appearance to those who were at the luncheon that you were attempting to mitigate your error by purchasing Lady Mila's indulgence, rather than through an honest apology. And they would find out; you may be assured of that."

Cari, who had been on the cusp of protesting, closed her mouth at her aunt's last statement; after all, she mused with a pang as she recalled two gossiping Narnian ladies she had encountered the day after King Peter had helped her find her forgotten book in the ballroom at Cair Paravel, it was impossible to contradict.

Lady Lara's expression gentled. "I know that you are sincerely sorry for your mistake, Carisa, and so would anyone who knows you truly, but certain actions, even if meant sincerely, pose greater risks than others of causing erroneous public perceptions." She looked directly into her niece's eyes, both corners of her mouth curving upward ever so slightly. "As it stands, any fair-minded person could see that it was just that – a mistake that merely proves you are as human as any other. Furthermore, as our people get to know you better, they will see your general sincerity and your excellent conduct, and those will be proof enough of your character to anyone foolish enough to think otherwise."

Cari opened her mouth but found she had no reply. After several moments she nodded in what she hoped was a composed manner. "Thank you, Aunt Lara," was all she said.

Her aunt nodded back, the corners of her mouth still upturned. "You are welcome, Carisa." She looked for a moment as though she would say something else, but thought better of it and swept out of the room, leaving Cari to her confused thoughts.

Cari spent the remainder of the day working diligently and uttering no more than a sentence or two to anyone. Even Corin failed to get a rise out of her when he jumped out from behind Aravis's table to startle both girls. Aravis merely rolled her eyes at him, and Cari, apart from jumping a few inches, did nothing.

Corin tilted his head and snapped his fingers in front of her nose. "Hello, in there! You are still here, aren't you?"

"Yes, Corin," Cari replied, picking up a bit of sandpaper. "And yes, I heard you the first time." She chose a board from the pile on the end of her table and, without further ado, went to work.

Corin shot her an oddly bemused look, but after a moment headed back to his workbench. Cari felt Aravis raise an eyebrow ever so slightly in her direction as much as she saw it, but after a moment the younger girl, too, went back to her work.

Dinner at Lord Herm's manor that night was a rather subdued affair; the journey upward from Breck had proven more difficult than the journey down, and the travelers found themselves well worn with hunger, stiffness, and fatigue by the time of their arrival. They diligently tucked into dinner, but found little energy for anything else; even Corin did not protest when his father suggested they all turn in early.

The royal family departed from Lord Herm's manor on a cold morning, the mountains around them shrouded in a mist that soon turned into a steady rain. Over the next few days, the continuing downpour and treacherous, mud-flooded paths slowed their travel and nearly caused Cari's hands and arms to go numb after spending hours gripping Naka's saddle as the mare carefully picked her way through quagmires and fallen rocks. She had never been so glad to see the end of a journey as when she finally caught sight of Anvard's solid mahogany towers rising above the trees in front of her. She thought she was nearly as glad that neither her father nor any of her siblings had caught wind of her blunder at the luncheon, and thanked her lucky stars for her aunt's discretion.

_As if I needed Corin to have any more reasons for teasing me,_ she mused as she absentmindedly stroked the tired little mare's neck, _or anyone at all in Archenland to have more cause for thinking of me as a bumbling idiot._

A few days after returning to Anvard, the family celebrated the end-of-spring planting festival. The woodland primroses had burst gloriously into bloom, splashing the hills around the castle with hues from icy mauve to sunset crimson. After the morning planting at the castle farm, servants, lords, and ladies alike romped on the lawns near the fields, playing everything from lawn-bowls to ring tossing. In the afternoon, following a glorious outdoor luncheon, all of the ladies and girls adjourned to the hills surrounding the farm to pick the brightest and loveliest primroses, which they wove into garlands for their heads in keeping with the tradition of the festival. Cari, who had feared she would mangle no end of flowers, was pleasantly surprised to find the task easier than she had anticipated; bending and weaving together the flowers' pliant stems recalled to her fingers their former agility at working on Arsheesh's nets. She finished her own garland with time to spare and turned to help Aravis, who was experiencing some difficulty with hers.

"Would you like another flower, Aravis?" she asked, holding out a lovely rose-colored specimen as she approached the younger girl.

Aravis shook her head, her cheeks taking on a hue suspiciously like that of the primrose Cari had offered her. "No, thank you," she answered more quietly than usual. She paused before adding, with more of her usual animation, "If anything, I need fewer of these horridly slippery plants." She pulled on one of the stems, but too hard, and it broke free of the half-woven garland, scattering most of its petals onto the ground beside it. Aravis sighed in exasperation, and Cari could tell she was gritting her teeth as well. She held back a smile as she lowered herself into a tentative kneeling position beside the younger girl.

"They are slippery," she acknowledged, before picking up a couple of discarded flowers from beside Aravis. "But once you get used to them, they're not so bad – not nearly so bad as tapestry weaving, at any rate."

Aravis made a face, and Cari was hard-pressed to swallow a burst of laughter. "They're just about as bad. Anyhow, they are both different types of hand-work, and I – I have not the talent for it, not as you do." She grimaced again, and this time Cari did smile.

"Well, we both pale in comparison to our ladies," she pointed out. "You do remember the utter wreck I made of the wallhanging I was trying to make using the right hook stitch, the one it took me nearly a week to unravel?"

Aravis returned the older girl's smile; Cari had indeed spent days fuming over the tangled mess and re-binding the threads she had been able to salvage. "Fair point," she agreed. "At least you were able to attempt such a difficult stitch, though, which makes you the master at this endeavor." She held up one end of her forlorn half-garland. "Which shall, no doubt, be the source of all of Corin's laughter for the next two weeks."

Cari grinned and shook her head. "So let him laugh. He can't so much as thread a needle." She looped the stem of one of the flowers she was holding, and wound the stem of the other one through it. "Whereas we – " here she tied a third stem to the others, creating a neat knot – "can work wonders of which he cannot dream." She held out the primroses to Aravis, whose eye had glinted with a hint of mischief as she watched the older girl tie the flowers together. As she reached out to take them, however, her eyes narrowed in concentration.

"How did you do that, again?" she asked, and within minutes the two girls had managed not only to salvage Aravis's work, but to turn it into a fine wreath. Aravis thanked Cari wholeheartedly when it was finished.

"I suppose I should have practiced my tapestry weaving better," she added with a faint grimace.

Cari lifted one shoulder in a mild shrug. "No, you did very well. Besides, by that logic, I should be practicing at dancing several more hours each day than I do."

That earned her an emphatic eyeroll from the younger girl. "The next time you start enunciating your flaws in response to a compliment, Cari," she retorted, "I shall tell Corin to put rats in your bed again."

Cari, who had opened her mouth halfway through the younger girl's rebuke in anticipation of its end, promptly shut it again. She was still attempting to formulate a reply when Lady Ketria swept up to her.

"It appears that all have completed their wreaths, Princess Cari – Lady Aravis," she said, nodding to each of them. "Whenever you should be ready, I can gather all of the ladies to go in to dinner."

Fortunately, Corin did not tease the girls about their wreaths as much as they had feared, although Cari guessed that his restraint was due less to his own wishes than to the fact that the girls had trooped indoors just in time to meet King Lune, who led them all to feast on the same terrace where he had celebrated his children's arrival in Archenland nearly a year earlier. Following dinner, everyone adjourned to the castle lawn, which had been fitted with several wooden poles planted in the ground at equal distances from each other, forming a sprawled cluster not unlike the shape of a honeycomb. Also gathered on the lawn was much the same ensemble who had played and sung in the west hall on Christmas Eve. Cari, Aravis, and their ladies-in-waiting opened the night's dancing with a lively routine that involved weaving in and out among the poles, then splitting into groups, each of which surrounded one of the poles and circling it faster and faster until the music flew to a sudden end. Cari could barely breathe for a few minutes after that, but joined in most of the rest of the dances that followed.

Not three weeks after the festival, the family celebrated King Lune's birthday with a grand day of games and feasting. Cari, once again in charge of the siblings' gift-giving, had commissioned a family portrait carved out of fine oak by the castle woodsmiths. They in turn were assisted by the two artists who sketched excellent likenesses of each sibling and of the king himself, although they had been forced to accomplish most of the latter at the twins' birthday dinner. Cari made a point of paying them handsomely, for they had had to put up with a good deal of fidgeting from Corin, who later remarked to his sister that she should pay him, too, for having to sit still so long.

Cari merely rolled her eyes at him. "It obviously didn't kill you, Corin, and a bit of sacrifice is worth making Father happy in any case."

As it turned out, King Lune was more than happy with his gift. For a few moments after unwrapping it, he was speechless as tears welled up in his eyes.

"It is…beautiful," he finally managed, his voice sinking much nearer a whisper than its usual cheerful boom. "My children, thank you. I could not think of a better gift, save for Aslan's granting of the four persons behind the images." He embraced them all warmly, and even Corin returned his father's gesture with more affection than was his wont.

Not long after the king's birthday, he celebrated the first anniversary of the arrival of Cor, Cari, and Aravis with a grand terrace feast much like the one they had had a year earlier, complete with fireworks. The festivities also included a merry round of dancing on the castle lawn, which Cari had discovered was a rather common occurrence during Archenland's warm summers.

_Father must have curtailed them somewhat last summer for Cor's and my sakes,_ Cari mused as Corin swept her an exaggerated bow at the end of a particularly lively dance. _Thank heavens he did, given how poor a dancer I was. Granted, I shall never be a great dancer or even a very good one, but now at least I can get through an evening without stepping on several different people's toes._

The next two months passed in a succession of long, golden days, which Cari filled to the brim with both her studies and her duties. Besides writing diplomatic letters, she also sat in on a few of her father's council sessions, as well as two or three of his petitioners' hearings. Cor joined her at all of them, and Aravis and Corin for the few where the king required their presence.

"Although none of you shall be king or queen of Archenland," he had told Cari, Corin, and Aravis, "you shall still represent her in many lands and before many persons, royal, noble, and common alike. You must know your land and your people thoroughly well in order to represent them with distinction and honor."

Cari wholeheartedly agreed with this, but by the end of her first petitioners' hearing, she was relieved beyond measure to know that Cor, and not she, would preside over similar proceedings one day. In most cases, Archenlanders who had complaints against each other brought them to the local magistrates, but occasionally the king heard those cases the magistrates could not settle, or in which they had been accused of corrupted judgments. Such cases, as Cari quickly discovered, were also the most complicated; two petitioners involved in the same matter usually presented significantly different versions of it, and, quite apart from being stunned that anyone would dare lie to the king, she found it impossible to say which person was lying and which was telling the truth – or whether each one of them was doing a good deal of both. She had no idea how her father could the petitioners' characters, as well as the true they spoke from the false, with such skill as he did, or how he could remember which of Archenland's legions of laws to refer to in each situation. Even then, as she discovered one day when a worn-looking man approached King Lune to contest the confiscation of his land by the lord of a local manor, her father's abilities were not infallible. The man, whose raiment and shoes were patched and shabby, recounted his difficult journey to Anvard – he had traveled on foot most of the way from the Southern March because his horse had died near the border with the province of Middle Arrow – and explained that he, his wife, and their five children had been forcibly evicted from their home by the lord, who in his turn claimed that the land was his by right of one of the town's property laws. As the petitioner explained that his family and their land had been granted an exemption from the statute by a contract his great-grandfather had signed with the lord's grandfather, his words were weighed down with the same worry that bent his head ever so slightly when he spoke, and Cari felt pity for him almost at once. She could not articulate exactly what it was in the tone of the lord, who gave his own account after the other man had finished, that made her distrust him so, but distrust him she did, despite his protestations that, since his late father had sold or given away so much of the manor's land that he needed his opponent's plot to maintain his own home and family.

_Surely Trost must have the contract to prove that Lord Cald speaks wrongly, _Cari thought as the lord finished his statement with a bow. _He must have kept it, after all._

As it turned out, however, Trost had not kept the document; it had been given to the hall of records in Lohm, the region from which the two men hailed. Part of the hall had burned down a few years before, with the records inside it, and Trost could provide no other proof that the land rightfully belonged to him. As both men stepped aside to await the resolution, the king and a few of his advisors conferred in hushed voices. Cari could not make out what they said, but her father's deeply furrowed brow caused her to bite her lip unconsciously. Finally, the king shook his head and sighed, his shoulders sinking deeply, along with Cari's heart as she watched him. She looked down, unable to watch her father deliver the verdict he clearly had not wished to give, and even her grim anticipation did not lighten the blow of Trost's low moan of anguish.

Cari looked up just in time to see Lord Cald give his departing bow to the king. As he turned to sweep out of the room, a corner of his traveling cloak caught Trost on the shoulder. Trost did not respond – indeed, Cari doubted whether he had even noticed – but as Lord Cald exited the room, a tight fury gripped the pit of her stomach. Aravis had to call her name three times before she realized that the hearing was over.

"Are you all right, Cari?" the younger girl asked, and it was only then that Cari realized how tightly she had been clenching her jaw.

"Yes, Aravis," she answered shortly before turning to look for her father. He was only a few steps away, but even as Cari made to approach him, he sighed again, and his shoulders drooped further. Cari bit her lip and, after a moment of indecision, turned again and left the room. It was not until the following day that she finally approached him about the matter.

"Father," she asked on the way indoors from her knife-throwing practice, of which he had watched the end, "is – did Trost – the man from yesterday, at the end of the hearing – is he still here, or did he perhaps find another petitioner from Middle Arrow who would kindly transport him back there?"

The king took a moment to respond. "I know a merchant from Archton who has business in Lohm," he finally answered. "He is transferring enough goods to need assistance along the way, and Trost agreed to help him in exchange for fair payment. Once they reach Lohm, the merchant has offered to inquire if any of the local merchants with whom he does business should be in need of similar services whose payment might suffice to maintain Trost and his family."

Cari attempted to smile, but could summon only a weak attempt. "He – he is certain the contract he spoke of was burned?" she could not help but ask.

King Lune slowed nearly to a stop. "Yes, he is sure," he answered, his voice softening. "I know the man who keeps the hall of records there; he was a friend of your mother's from when she grew up there. He meticulously catalogued all of the documents that survived the fire, and the contract was not one of them."

Cari nodded. After a few moments of staring at the ground, she got up the nerve to look her father squarely in the eyes.

"And – and there is other way of exempting him from the law of which Lord Cald spoke?" she asked, her voice nearly a whisper.

Her father returned her gaze as he shook his head. "No, Cari," he said quietly."

Cari bit her lip. "That's not – " She caught herself before finishing her sentence, but King Lune's gaze softened, and he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"I know it is not, my daughter," he said, "but it is still the law, and I cannot make an exception merely because I will it. As I told your brother a year ago when he discovered he would one day be king of Archenland, the king is under the law just as his subjects are."

Cari quickly blinked the moisture out of her eyes. "Can the law not be changed, then?" she could not help but ask, even though she knew what the king's reply would be.

Her father shook his head. "Not unless the people and authorities of Lohm wish it," he answered. "I cannot change the law at will any more than I can break it in the first place."

Although the idea that occurred to Cari at that moment brought up the memory of Lady Lara admonishing her for her offer to send an apology gift to Lady Mila, she could not help but voice it in any case.

"Father," she said, "could – could I not perhaps send a few of my funds – just a few – along with the merchant?"

The king's answering look, though compassionate, was even more resolute. "No, Cari," he replied, his voice firm. "I cannot show favoritism between subjects, nor can any member of our family. It could too easily pave the way for all manner of abuse and accusations, and the resulting trouble would prove far greater than the remedy that began it."

Even as she nodded, Cari blinked away more tears. Try as she might, she could not hide them from her father, who reached a comforting arm around her shoulders. They had stopped beside a rock wall at the edge of a terrace overlooking a fountain in the palace gardens, and both of them leaned their elbows on the top of the wall as they watched the breeze ripple the water as petals from the surrounding foliage swirled over it.

"I, too, wish I could do more for Trost and his family," King Lune said after several moments. "I wish I could have done more for many of the petitioners I have encountered over the years, even though I know otherwise." He sighed heavily, and Cari turned to see him gazing beyond the fountain over the lower gardens beyond it. "It is no easier now to know I must rely on the grace of Aslan and the kindness of others to do what I cannot than it was when I first became king." He sighed again, but when he turned to his daughter a few moments later, his eyes had lightened a bit. "But I have you, my daughter, and I have your brothers and Aravis; that alone is more than worth every struggle and worry I must face."

Cari smiled at him then, but her eyes mirrored the pressing encumbrance present in his own. As they made their way back toward the castle, she silently vowed to complain about none of her duties. _Even if I return to my room to find that Corin's put a battalion of rats in it, I shall not say a word – not to Father, at least._


	34. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Near the end of the summer, the royal family traveled to the province of Pire for King Lune's meeting with the farmers', butchers', and bakers' guilds, which, as Corin had said, was held in an ancient, spacious bakery. Kerna, the proprietress, did indeed make the best chocolate cake his siblings had ever tasted, as well as all manner of tarts, pies, and breads. Cari tried to sample the goods sparingly, as she had another ladies' luncheon in the middle of the meeting, but gave into temptation more than once. Fortunately, Kerna kept her, as well as Aravis and Corin, busy assisting her. During the morning Cari helped out with the tarts, and not with the bread as the other two did, since she could not afford to be covered in flour for the luncheon. The siblings rotated positions after lunch, however, and by the time the meeting had drawn to an end, all three were liberally doused with flour, sugar, and various other ingredients. The aprons Kerna had given the two girls absorbed much of the damage (Corin, who had flatly refused to wear one, had opted to bring one of his father's old shirts instead), but enough residue remained to send Cor into fits of laughter when he and the king returned from the meeting.

Afterward, the family visited the chocolatier's shop of which Corin had spoken so glowingly. It took only a bite of the morsel the shopkeeper gave Cari to justify every word he had spoken; no food she had ever eaten could match its rich, creamy lusciousness. Even Aravis, who had had her fair share of fine chocolates during her days as a Tarkheena in Calormen, could not resist asking for more.

By the time the family left the shop to walk back to the home of the lord and lady who were hosting them, Cari had all she could do not to hold her overly full stomach and moan. Even Corin's insatiable hunger had been satisfied, and he ate less for dinner than Cari had ever seen him consume.

_Not that I blame him,_ she groaned inwardly as she forced herself to take another tiny bite of the apple slice in her hand. _If I eat a few more bites myself, I shall burst at the seams._

On the way back to Anvard, the family stopped to visit Derick and Kenna, who now lived less than a day's ride from the castle on the sprawling estate owned by Derick's parents. Lord Aren and Lady Lina were there with their son Kenton on a visit of their own to their daughter and new grandson, over whom everyone cooed and exclaimed profusely. Now nearly nine months old and sporting a full head of dark brown hair, little Aren liked to crawl and try to pull himself up using the nursery furniture much more than he enjoyed being held, as Cari and the others discovered when they took turns holding him. After less than a minute, the baby would reach for either the floor or one of his parents; by the time he got around to Corin, who looked a bit less than thrilled to pick up the child in the first place, it took no more than fifteen seconds for him to begin squirming and squalling for Kenna, who grinned as she hurried over to take him from the relieved Corin. This earned him no end of laughter and teasing from the others, especially his twin.

"Blimey, Corin, you're even scaring babies now," he said, grinning. "Of course, I think he has excellent taste – right, Aren?" He extended his hand toward the baby, holding the little finger out for him to hold onto. "See, he likes me. Good boy," he added, smiling at little Aren, who had promptly grabbed his finger and wrist.

Corin threw his brother a dirty look. "Well, _he _isn't big enough to knock you down. I, on the other hand, am – not to mention that I can teach him to do it to you."

Cor merely grinned at him. "I'd like to see you try."

However, Corin had apparently deemed the baby too young to be taught to knock Cor down, for as soon as they were given the chance, he, Cor, and Aravis headed outdoors to practice at fencing with Derick and Kenton. While King Lune and his sister and brother-in-law headed into the next room to talk to Derick's parents, Cari joined Kenna on the nursery floor to help entertain the baby.

"Mother says he'll be walking in another two months or so," Kenna remarked as she handed the baby a brightly colored cloth ball. "Which means I'll have to watch him all the time – well, I almost do now anyway. The first few months of his life, I barely ever let him out of my sight, and then only when Derick had him." She smiled ruefully. "Motherhood has made such a worrywart of me, if one listens to Kenton, although I always was more of a worrier than he was growing up – not that that took much." Seeing the smile Cari could not hold back, she turned to watch the crawling child pick up a wooden block and put it in his mouth. "Derick says I'm just being a good mother, but then he would say that." Her eyes took on the soft glow Cari had seen the previous year when the two girls had been watching Derick fence at Lord Aren and Lady Lina's manor. "He has been just lovely with Aren ever since I gave birth; he does the most outrageous things to make him laugh, which I am sure you shall get a sampling of after dinner. Especially if Kenton decides to join in, which he did last night."

Cari regarded her cousin skeptically. "He can laugh?"

Kenna nodded. "Oh, yes! He goes into fits at the oddest things."

Cari tilted her head thoughtfully, willing her memory back to the first year after she and Cor had arrived in Calormen. Try as she might, she could not remember him laughing as a baby. _Although heavens only know there was precious little for him to laugh at in Arsheesh's domain._

She was jolted back to the present by a wail from the baby, which caused her head to turn to the other end of the nursery. He had managed to crawl all the way over to one of the lowest chairs in the room and pull himself up along one of its legs until his little hands clutched the seat. He was now reaching in desperation for a toy located farther back on the seat, just out of his reach.

"Aren, love, it's all right," Kenna cooed, kneeling upright to scoot herself nearer to her son even as she held out the ball to him. "You can come back down, see? You have lots of lovely toys down here." Turning to a bemused Cari, she explained, "I try not to give him every toy for which he cries. Mother says that she did the same with us, so we wouldn't grow up thinking we could have just anything we wanted whenever we happened to want it. Derick's mother did the same with him, too, and I can see why they did as they did, although it was awfully hard to let him cry the first few times. It wasn't nearly as bad as getting him to sleep all the way through the night, but it was not easy either."

Cari frowned. "What if he's perhaps hungry as well as wanting a toy, though? How do you know exactly what he's crying for?"

Kenna smiled. "He cries a bit differently for everything he wants or needs. I simply learned to distinguish between the different kinds." Seeing Cari's bemused look, she put a hand on the younger girl's shoulder. "Don't worry, Cari; you'll learn it yourself when you have your first child."

Cari smiled and lowered her head. "Perhaps. In any case, I am sure that time is a long way off yet."

Her cousin's smile broadened. "Maybe so. Of course, I thought for a long time that I would never marry or have children, but here I am." She quickly turned to her left to check on the baby, who had now propelled himself around the corner of the chair to the side where the toy he had wanted was sitting. He seized it with both hands, which caused him to lose his balance and fall back onto the floor with a _plop_.

Kenna reached out to embrace him. "Oh, good boy, Aren! You're so smart, aren't you?" She nuzzled his tiny nose affectionately with her own. "I shall have to tell your father about this, yes, I shall. He'll be so proud of you!" She planted a resounding kiss on the baby's forehead before turning back to Cari. "He's never done that before. Wait until I tell Derick; he'll be so pleased."

Cari nodded as the baby squirmed, causing his mother to set him down again. She watched him crawl off behind the younger girl. "But there; I have completely forgotten myself, Cari. How did the meeting in Pire go? I have not heard much about it, except that you distinguished yourself by absorbing a rather unbelievable amount of information about the province in preparation for the trip."

Cari held back a snort. "Aravis must have said that; she's teased me plenty before about my 'extremely thorough' preparations." She curved her fingers into the shape of quotation marks.

Kenna grinned in response. "You can tell her that there's nothing at all wrong with being extremely thorough, Cari," she said. Her expression grew slightly more serious as she added, "I am very sure that the people with whom you interact appreciate the fact that you have taken the trouble to learn so much about them, as does Uncle Lune. It speaks to how much you care about doing your duty with excellence, as well as representing him – and yourself – with distinction."

Cari's mouth twisted at this. "I'm not sure about distinction, Kenna; I certainly have not been flawless in the execution of my duties thus far." She added, in an almost inaudible voice, "I have tried, and as well as I can, but – well, I am afraid I often fail."

Kenna reached out and put a gentle hand on her cousin's shoulder. "Cari," she said earnestly, "I have heard nothing but praise for you from my parents, as well as from Uncle Lune and Master Dorian in his letters to Derick's family – he is a great friend of theirs." Her eyes softened as she added, "I thought it was hard enough for me to grow up as the daughter of a viscount, but I know it was probably quite easy compared to all of the instructions and duties and public attention that make up your lot. For instance, I think most girls put in your position at your birthday ball would have left the dance early, but you persevered graciously." Seeing Cari's as yet unvoiced protest, she hurried to continue. "Besides which, Aunt Lara said you handled yourself with, as she put it in her letter, 'much intelligence and dignity for one in her position.'"

This last quelled Cari's objection, and her eyes widened of their own accord. She had not expected such a compliment from her older aunt, by whose standards one such sentence equated to elaborate praise.

Seeing her cousin's expression, Kenna smiled again. "Why, I remember when you visited my parents' manor just a year ago. You kept on repeating the names of all the large cities, mountains, and rivers in Kemmern because you were nervous about an event in which you had a much smaller role than the one you just attended in Pire – and yet you were so determined to do your very level best at every duty you were assigned. And now here you are, several grand affairs later and conversing gracefully with complete strangers." She inclined her head toward the sitting room where her parents and the king were visiting with Derick's parents. "You have done what you intended, Cari." Seeing the question on the younger girl's face, she quickly added, "You have performed your duties with excellence, as I said before. More important, you still want to do so. I can see your desire to do right, to make your father and your people proud, and that, more than a mistake here or there, is what is most important." She smiled warmly as she squeezed Cari's shoulder. "Do not forget that, Cari."

Cari bit her lip as her cousin turned to hand another toy to the baby, who had crawled back to his mother in the meantime. "Besides," the older girl added, her voice a good deal lighter, "you have had such a wonderful influence on Corin." Seeing Cari's almost comically skeptical look, she replied, "It's true. I caught him saying something to Derick about King Kathan just before they went outside, and I've never heard him reference Archenlandic history before. And he hasn't played quite so many pranks on Derick and Kenton since you and Cor and Aravis got here, you know."

That elicited a smile from Cari. "That's because he knows what will happen to him if Aravis or I catch him," she said, raising a teasing eyebrow and making Kenna burst out into peals of laughter again.

Not long after the family returned to Anvard, the air began cooling decidedly, and the trees took the cue by striving to outdo each other in producing bursts of fiery color. The apples swelled in the castle orchards, and before long Cari found herself out among the trees with her father, Aravis, and the twins, one and all picking the ripe fruits (and, in the twins' case, throwing them at each other as well as at various spots on far-off trees that they dared each other to hit) with aplomb. Cari burned two of her fingers later on during the applesauce-making in the kitchens, but considered the delicious result more than worth the trouble.

_Besides, _she mused as she dipped the affected fingertips in a basin of cold water afterward, _I know I burned at least four last year. Two isn't nearly so bad._

The siblings' excursions into the orchard and kitchens came at a welcome time, for never could Cari remember having been quite so busy in her studies. She had passed Corin's levels in all subjects some time ago, but the further she advanced, the more work there was to do. Miera remarked more than once upon the frequency of her visits to the castle library, although both she and her new assistant Della, younger sister to Cari's lady-in-waiting Lady Dara, were both glad to help Cari find whatever materials she required. Despite her young age, Della proved knowledgeable about a number of subjects and shared Cari's passion for history; her dark eyes glimmered with excitement whenever the two girls got to discussing early Archenlandic lore and the Age of Fire in particular. Nearly every one of Cari's visits proved shorter than she would have liked, but they always ended with promises by both girls and Miera to discuss more history whenever Cari returned.

By the time the family left to visit Narnia two weeks before Queen Cara's birthday, Cari was more than ready for the holiday, as, she suspected, were the siblings' teachers; Cor and Corin had grown increasingly restless as the family's departure approached. Her work had not been in vain, however; the night before they left Anvard, she overheard Master Dorian telling her father that in the subjects of history, grammar, and logic, she was not overly far behind the level she would have achieved had she been brought up at Anvard.

"She is a bit further behind in the others, but has still made excellent progress in all," he informed the king. "I should not be surprised if she has very nearly caught up in everything not two years hence. She is a truly gifted and diligent student."

Cari could not see her father's face, but heard the wide smile in his voice nonetheless. "I am glad to hear it, Master Dorian. I could tell she had inherited Cara's intellect from the very beginning, even when she was a small child, but the diligence and responsibility are far more important." He paused a moment before adding, "She truly is Cara's daughter, even if she does not always see it in herself."

Cari did not hear the teacher's reply, as the two men were heading away from her, so she slowly continued along the route to her mother's tapestry, which she had wanted to visit before leaving Anvard.

_Am I so much your daughter as Father thinks, Mother? _she silently inquired of the queen's smiling face. _For one thing, I have not been coming by nearly so much of late. I think Father would say that you would understand, and even be glad that I am putting so much time into my duties. I still miss you as much as ever, though; I am so glad for the times I do get to come here. _She sighed. _For another thing, I am not so sure I am as intelligent as you were, even though I am very glad Master Dorian considers me diligent. I certainly try to do well in everything my masters teach me, as well as in all of my duties, even if I do not always succeed – even if I often fail. _ She raised her chin slightly, then brought it down with a gentle bump onto her knees, where it had been resting before. _Perhaps that is what Father meant about me being like you; after all, you must have tried very hard to remember and fulfill all of your duties at first, when you had just become queen. If that is so, then I am very glad, even if I have failed more often than you did. _She set her shoulders back, lifting her chin along with them. _And I shall not disappoint him or you. I will acquit myself much more successfully on this trip to Narnia than I did on the last one; I will not drop a Calormene curtsey, forget a book in the ballroom, or step all over the kings' feet when I dance with them. And when I return, I shall continue to please Master Dorian with my progress in my studies. _

Early the following morning, the family arose, and, after an hour or so of hasty last-minute packing and loading, accompanied by groans and yawns (chiefly from Corin and Cari), they departed the castle and headed eastward. Luckily, it was a warm, sunny day, so they made excellent time, reaching Beruna with a bit of autumn daylight to spare for setting up their tents.

The next morning's sky was gray with clouds, but none of the rain they threatened appeared on the family's journey to the castle. As they had the previous year, the four Narnian monarchs appeared on the broad patio just above the courtyard to greet their guests, a brisk sea breeze ruffling their robes out behind them.

After a round of handshakes and embraces, everyone headed indoors for tea, following which they enjoyed a lively round of lawn-bowls beside the courtyard. Thanks in part to Cari's and Aravis's excellent tossing, their team won, although not by much. Corin, who had turned a particularly good effort on behalf of the losing team, cheerfully announced that the loss bothered them not much at all, as they would win handily at croquet and net-bowls on the morrow. Naturally, Cor took exception to these assertions, and the twins argued all the way indoors to dinner.

The clouds and wind both vanished overnight, producing a warm, clear morning. After breakfast, King Lune joined the two Narnian kings for the harvest hunt. There was no mistaking the longing gleam in Corin's eyes as he watched the party head out toward the nearby forest, but neither he nor his brother made any attempt to join them. Instead, they headed out to the sword ring with Aravis and Queen Susan, an accomplished swordswoman in her own right, while Cari accompanied Queen Lucy to the archery fields to throw knives. At first, Cari was nervous about throwing with the queen, whose reputation in the art was nearly unmatched, but after a few errant tosses, she calmed down somewhat and began hitting the bull's-eye of the shorter target with nearly every throw.

Queen Lucy grinned at her after about a dozen such tosses. "You have excellent skills, Cari," she said. "Would you like to try out some of the longer targets?"

"Oh – why, yes, of course," Cari agreed, pulling her knife out of the target's center. "And I do have an excellent master; my skills are mainly due to his tutelage."

The younger girl smiled again as they headed off toward the middle of the field. "But not completely, I should warrant. It takes a good deal of natural talent to make those kinds of tosses, even with such a good teacher as Master Ordell." As they reached their intended target, she gestured toward the tosser's line. "You first?"

Cari nodded. "Thank you," she said and took her place, frowning in concentration at the new target. After a few moments of deliberation, she took careful aim and released the knife, which tumbled through the air and struck the target dead center.

Queen Lucy laughed merrily. "We should have gone straight to the longest one at this rate," she remarked as she stepped into the position Cari had just vacated. Her knife hit the upper part of the bull's-eye, just above Cari's. As she turned to step aside for Cari, she slipped on a particularly wet patch of ground and would have fallen but for the older girl stopping her and helping her up.

"Are you all right, Queen Lucy?" she asked.

The younger girl grinned. "Oh, of course. I should have felt out the ground more carefully, since it rained this morning." Her eyes flicked upward toward the overcast sky for a moment. "And we shall be lucky if it does not rain again today, by the looks of things. One can tell it's harvest season in Narnia when the rains start coming in earnest." She sighed dramatically, her eyes twinkling. "Poor Edmund. He's going to be so disappointed if he can't go climbing around the mud cliffs one more time before they turn green."

Cari gave her a puzzled look. "They turn green?"

"Well, not bright green," Queen Lucy assured her. "And it's only the mud cliffs that do that; they are partially made of salt silt from the northern moors, which is where we get most of our rock salt. The rivers that flow out of the north carry it out and mix it with the loam from Lantern Waste carried by the Great River, and the Great River deposits both soils along a stretch of coastline about a mile south of here." She gestured briefly back toward the castle. "Well, actually there are two stretches, because the soils wash down on either side of an odd little hollow between them. Anyhow, the deposits build up all year long until the autumn rains come to wash them away. When they do that, they mix with the silt and loam on the mud cliffs and turn them a shimmery, mossy sort of green, just before they wash them away." A reminiscent gleam entered her eyes. "It's actually a lovely sight to see, if one is in a safe enough place; if the mudslides combine with hard rains and a high tide, the sea can rise several feet per hour up against the cliffs. Edmund has a safe place, though, just the other side of the castle where one can see the mud cliffs without being too close to them. He would love to go every year, but it only takes a couple of days' hard rains for all of the year's soil deposits to wash off the cliffs, so the timing has to be precise, and of course we're not always here when it happens. It is completely worth waiting for, though; I have only seen it two or three times, but it has been spectacular."

"That's what Corin said," Cari replied.

"Oh, I didn't mean to bore you, Cari; I didn't know Corin had told you all about the cliffs already," Queen Lucy apologized.

Cari shook her head. "No, that's quite all right. Corin did not go into as much detail as you did, in any case. He just mentioned the mud cliffs in passing after you left Anvard this last spring, when Father refused to let him go climbing on them."

The younger girl grinned. "Oh, they're fairly safe at any other time of year; Edmund actually has a favorite climbing route that goes straight up through a peculiar hollow between the cliffs, where the silt doesn't gather for some reason. It's close to the falls, which are a mile and a half or so away from here. He had a rope made especially long, just so he could anchor himself from the tall rock growing along the top of the cliff there – not that he always remembers to untie it and bring it with him after he's done using it."

"So that's where Corin wanted to go climbing with him?" Cari inquired.

The younger girl nodded. "Yes; they've climbed that route before. It takes a bit of skill, and Corin certainly has it."

Cari could not help smiling. "I can imagine he would. He certainly excels at climbing trees."

A peal of laughter escaped Queen Lucy at this remark. "That he does. I suppose he never told you about the time when we all went out picnicking in the woods just north of your castle, when we were on a visit there and he was perhaps six or seven years old. He was so determined to show us – Edmund in particular – how high he could climb that he got himself stuck so far up in a tree that it took Edmund and Peter both to get him down."

Cari grinned. "No, he never bothered to mention it. I can just imagine him doing it, though."

"Oh, he loved getting up as far as he could," agreed Queen Lucy. "Once he got stuck, though, it was a different story." Her smile softened, and Cari's brows rose ever so slightly. "He got awfully scared when he looked down; he was at least fifteen feet in the air, which must have seemed an even greater height than usual at his size. Peter had to talk to him for several minutes before he calmed down enough to take Edmund's hand." One corner of her mouth quirked upward as she added, "By the time they reached the lowest branches of the tree, though, he had Corin convinced it was all an excellent game, for Corin did not mind at all when Edmund dropped him down into Peter's arms."

Cari's smile reappeared. "Well, King Peter must have convinced him thoroughly; he still thinks climbing of any sort is an excellent game."

The three kings and their party did not return from the hunt until nearly dinnertime, but it had been a rousing success, as they had caught plenty of game for the harvest feast. The castle butchers took the spoils to cut and portion them, and the following day King Lune and his sons accompanied the two Narnian kings to the castle kitchens to help cure and roast the meat. Cari and Aravis, meanwhile, accompanied the two queens to the ovens not long afterward to assist with the bread making. "Please do not feel obligated to accompany us; we never expect such of our guests," Queen Susan had told them, but with her father and brothers already busy aiding King Peter and King Edmund, Cari felt it only right to follow suit. In any case, she found the environment familiar enough; the layout was similar to that of Anvard's kitchens, in which Cari had worked to hard the previous year to prepare for Archenland's harvest festival.

Several hours later, all four girls were covered in flour and various other bits of baking debris, although Queen Susan, ever graceful, had managed to get less on herself than the others. Cor and Corin, however, had fared decidedly worse; they and the three kings emerged from the meat roasting quarters liberally splashed with grease, herbs, and oils too many to name. King Peter and Corin were both sporting injuries in addition; King Edmund had accidentally swiped his brother in the shoulder with one of the spits, while Cor had sent a piece of meat flying off another straight into Corin's face. Corin did not seem to mind this in the least; in fact, as they met up with the ladies at the foot of the stairs leading up to the castle's ground floor, he was delightedly comparing his injury with King Peter's, even as Cor ribbed him gleefully over finally having knocked his twin down, if only (as Corin pointedly reminded him) by accident.

The harvest festival was held the next day, and Cari enjoyed it every bit as much as she had her own country's the previous year. For one thing, she did not have to serve food and recite a prayer with the eyes of an entire terraceful of guests upon her, and for another, the Narnians did not have the grain relay, which had proven her bane at Archenland's festival. However, there was a similar race that required each runner to run with a basket on top of his or her head. At each stop, he or she would put a vegetable or piece of fruit on top of it and hand it to the next runner, and so on around the circle until the last runner crossed the finish line with the basket full of food. Luckily, Cari ran her leg with only a potato and a large bunch of grapes in the basket, which held it down tolerably well without putting too much pressure on her head. She did not stumble at all during her leg of the race, although no sooner had she managed to pile the basket and an apple onto Aravis's head at the very end than her momentum carried her forward rapidly and nearly caused her to crash into both Corin and King Edmund at once. Fortunately, she managed to catch herself in time, and when Queen Lucy and King Edmund, startled, asked her if she was all right, she quickly answered that she was. To her mild surprise, when she turned to put her hand to her cheek, she found it not quite as hot as it had the previous year, when she had tripped during the grain relay at Archenland's harvest festival. _Thank heavens for small blessings,_ she thought. _I really do not need to walk around with my face red as a beet to boot after all of that. _

Dinner was served in the great hall, and finished with a mouthwatering array of delicacies ranging from rum-raisin pudding to treacle tarts. Cari, who had already eaten more than she was accustomed to at the noon meal and more than she had anticipated at dinner, found herself straining to sample even a few morsels off of the dessert trays, but the apple-and-cheese tart she tried first filled her mouth with such a delectable burst of cinnamon, cream, and juices that she felt compelled to take another slice of it.

Half an hour later, having eaten not one but two whole slices of the tart, Cari forced herself into the ballroom thanking her lucky stars she had had such a lengthy interlude between dinner and dancing. _I should barely have made it through half a dance, let alone a whole evening's worth, if I had only had a few minutes,_ she thought as she moved to stand next to her father to watch the kings and queens open the dance._ And it is a good thing I did not wear a tighter dress; what with the extra weight in my stomach, and having to dance these vigorous Narnian dances, I would have run the risk of ripping a seam._

Cari ripped no seams, however, and although she felt a bit more sluggish than usual during the first few dances, she found their quick maneuvers easier as the evening wore on. She could not keep from rolling her eyes at Cor, however, when he remarked during a particularly vigorous quickstep that he was in serious danger of becoming hungry again.

"What?" he demanded, as they bowed to end the dance. "I have been exerting myself at hard labor. Dancing is much more difficult than Corin and I make it look."

His sister mock-glared at him. "Oh, poor Cor; I feel so very sorry for you." She gestured to one of the side doorways, which led to a smaller chamber with three tables laden with refreshments. "Besides, there is more than enough nourishment over there to keep you and your brother from starving."

He grinned. "Almost."

Cari was in the middle of rolling her eyes again when she saw her brother's shift to her left. She turned to see the High King at her side.

"Good evening, Princess," he said with a slight bow, then turned to Cor. "I was wondering, Cor, if I might perhaps steal your sister for a dance, should she grant me the favor?"

Cor grinned. "Of course you may, King Peter," he replied. "I was just about to take a refreshment break, anyway." He winked at Cari as he turned to leave.

King Peter took Cari's brother's place in front of her. "May I have the honor of this dance, Princess?" he inquired. "Just because I asked your brother, after all, does not mean I assumed your consent."

Cari smiled. "No, King Peter, it's quite all right – and you may." She curtsied, and he answered with another bow as the music began.

"I hope you are having a pleasant evening, Princess Cari?" the king asked as he extended his arm out to twirl her.

Cari nodded. "Yes, of course. You and your siblings are very gracious to host us – and I am sure my brothers are more grateful than they might sometimes say for your willingness to provide them with such generous amounts of food," she added, half apologetically.

King Peter grinned. "Do not worry about that, Princess. We know how much food it takes to sustain a growing boy or two; I myself was not much older than your brothers are now when we first came to Narnia, and I must have eaten my own weight in food by the month." His eyes twinkled as he added, "Or so Susan seemed to think; I can still remember her admonishing Edmund and me before every foreign visit not to offend our hosts by overextending our stomachs." A reminiscent gleam sparked in his eye as he added, "Of course, when we were at home she was often telling us that we should eat ourselves sick if we were not careful – and she was proven right on more than one occasion, not that we would ever admit it." Seeing the smile Cari could not restrain, he added, "I am sure the two of you could find a great deal of common ground in that fashion, although if she were here at this moment, I believe she would tell you the same thing I do; that stage does end eventually. At some point, we errant brothers even reach an ability to admit – once in a very great while, that is – that our sisters were right on many counts."

Cari turned a half-relieved, half-disbelieving eye to him. "Well, that is lovely to hear. Perhaps there is hope yet for my brothers after all."

No sooner had the words left Cari's mouth than she bit her lip, afraid she had spoken too freely. However, King Peter did not to think so; his eyes gleamed with merriment as he dipped her to end the dance. "They may yet surprise you, Princess," he said, grinning. "If two such scalawags as Edmund and myself can reform, I am sure your brothers are in serious danger of appreciating your good advice one day." He winked genially, eliciting a completely unintentional burst of laughter from Cari that burst out almost as a snort before she turned it into a cough. "Excuse me," she offered, but both of them were smiling as she said it.

A few dances later, the musicians took a short break, and Cari swept off to the side of the room to see both of her brothers busily enjoying themselves at the refreshment tables.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Cari?" inquired a cheerful voice behind her, and Cari stopped mid-sigh to whirl and face Queen Lucy.

The younger girl's face turned apologetic. "I'm sorry I startled you," she said quickly. "I sneak up on people a bit too quickly for my own good sometimes, I know."

Cari shook her head. "Oh, no, Queen Lucy, it's fine. Besides, I am rather used to people sneaking up on me in all sorts of ways by now." She nodded toward her brothers.

Queen Lucy grinned at her. "I believe that's a special trait of brothers," she replied. "And – oh, I forget my manners again, Cari. Please don't let me interrupt you if you were on your way to get refreshments.

Cari shook her head. "Oh, no thank you," she replied. "I have already eaten my fill for the evening. I must pass on my compliments to all of those who prepared the food, particularly to those who made the apple-and-cheese tarts. They were simply delicious."

"Ah," said a merry voice beside them, and Cari whirled around to face King Peter, who was holding an apple in his hand and grinning devilishly at his younger sister. "See, Lucy, even Cari loves

_Platters bursting with apples divine_

_Surrounded, as the sun and moon with stars,_

_Though never from the hand as far,_

_The gold, the white that none can mar,_

_With curds and whey sublime._

_To wit: a feast table…with plates full of apples and cheese."_

He bowed in the direction of Queen Lucy, who rolled her eyes at him.

"I thought he would have outgrown that awful poem by now," she said to Cari, with a dramatic tilt of the head in her grinning brother's direction. "He recites that same passage every harvest, and sometimes when we're out picking apples he tries to get away with more of it. Edmund and Susan usually don't let him, though."

"But you love it so much, Lu," put in King Peter, his mock sincerity causing a snort of laughter to rise in Cari's throat; she squashed it with half a cough only just in time, as King Peter turned to her.

"My apologies, Princess Cari," he said. "I just keep on hoping she'll love it one day."

His sister rolled her eyes again. "I might love it if you stopped repeating it," she retorted. "Besides, it was only ever written as a joke to parody – oh, what was it called? – the Tale of the Three Crowns?"

"The Legend of the Three Crowns," Cari and King Peter corrected her in unison. Both of them stopped short as they realized they were speaking in unison, but before either one could apologize to the other, Queen Lucy burst out laughing.

"Legend, then," she finally said. "I stand corrected."

"Pardon me," said a soft voice to Cari's left, and she turned to see Mr. Tumnus, the faun who had accompanied King Edmund and Queen Lucy to Archenland on their mission to help King Lune defeat Prince Rabadash. He bowed politely and asked Queen Lucy's permission for a dance. She assented cheerfully, leaving Cari face to face with King Peter.

"I am sorry – " she began, at the very same time he said, "I did not mean – " Cari bit her lip, but the king stopped and gestured for her to continue, so she went on, "I did not mean to interrupt you, King Peter."

"Nor I you," he replied. After a few moments of silence, he inquired, "You have read Etharian's Legend of the Three Crowns, then?"

Cari nodded. "Parts of it," she said. "I hope to read it in full at some point in time." _That is, once I work my way up to the ability to understand such complex language,_ she refrained from adding._ It's even harder to understand than the Lay of Arbior!_

King Peter seemed almost to have guessed her thoughts. "I barely got all the way through it myself," he admitted. "And, in any case, I much prefer Tellon's parody of it. I always thought it served Etharian right for being so pretentious as to claim that his majestic epic was fit only to be written and recited by court poets, since it was impossible for the average lowly bard to do justice to its lofty beauty." His voice took on a mock-pompous tone near the end that made Cari bite her lip to keep from laughing.

"I take it that Tellon's Legend of the Two Coins is a favorite of yours, then?" she finally asked, once she had regained control of her voice.

The king nodded, his eyes twinkling. "Oh, yes, I am very fond of it," he said. After a pause, he added, "And you, Princess? Do you have a favorite poem, or poems?"

Cari nodded slowly. "I very much enjoy the Lay of Fair Olvin and Lady Liln," she said, "as well as Tellon's Island Sagas. All of them are a delight to read, despite the occasional historical inaccuracies."

This piqued the king's interest. "Historical inaccuracies?"

"Well, yes," Cari replied. After a long moment, she added, "For instance, in the passage about the Terebinthians' battle with the three sea dragons. The poem says that they sent emissaries to Archenland asking for help – which I am sure they did, but Tellon then goes on to say that those sailors rowed 'there/Then back 'gainst the pounding currents' to do it."

"Right," said King Peter slowly. "And he was wrong to say so?"

"Well, not exactly," answered Cari. "He did get his order reversed, though. Assuming the battle took place at the end of the winter, the prevailing winds and currents would have pushed _against_ the ships' progress toward Archenland on the way there, instead of helping them. It would have been on the way back that they had an easier time of it. Which, of course, would have made it impossible for them to have seen the Terebinthians' capital city burning for two whole days and nights before they reached it, as Tellon says. They would have been within sight of the city for only a day to a day and a half before actually reaching it, especially considering their renewed speed once they saw the flames. Therefore, Tellon must have miscalculated his days – not to mention the currents. And they would not have urged each other to 'save King Artem's throne,' but his son's, as King Artem had died several months previously."

King Peter spent several moments looking altogether bemused; Cari had barely had time to thank her lucky stars that he was not upset, or at least annoyed, by her assertions, before he spoke.

"I see what you mean," he said. "That part of the poem, though, references an old Archenlandic folk song about sea battles; perhaps Tellon simply chose the wrong phrases for language's sake without realizing he had referred to the wrong portion of the song. Or while realizing it," he added with a smile, "seeing as he was known for taking creative license now and then in dramatizing scenes he had not witnessed. And if I am not mistaken, the 'King Artem's throne' phrase came from an old Terebinthian fable."

Cari nodded. "Yes," she replied, "but that fable dates to decades _after_ the battle instead of before it. Therefore, it was not something the sailors themselves would have said during the actual event." Trying not to sound too argumentative, she added hastily, "But I do agree with you about Tellon taking creative license – especially when he borrowed from old songs and fables."

King Peter burst out laughing at that. "A fair point, Princess," he said once he could speak again, "and I have rarely if ever heard one better argued. I myself should never have thought to look so thoroughly into such details as tide patterns, for instance."

Cari flushed slightly. "Well, that part I learned from Master Dorian," she admitted. "He mentioned in passing during lessons that the late winter tides go outward from the southeastern coasts. It was only later that I went to the library to look it up for myself. It was then that I was able to calculate the number of days during which the sailors could have seen Terebinthia from the water."

"And calculated better than Tellon himself, I dare say," added the king, his eyes twinkling. "You should make a fine historian, Princess. I myself do not mind a bit of poetic license here or there, but I should mind far more if there were no true and detailed account to balance it out. I should say, rather, that I do mind, as I have seen it happen." His expression sobered as he added, "When the Witch first came to power, you see, she destroyed very many homes, and with them private libraries that contained many family records and other works of history. Only a few families managed to escape with written works of any kind, and so those works that survived are of infinite worth to us – and that includes what the Witch did not manage to destroy at Cair Paravel. In fact, many of the books we now have there were copied by our scribes from works your father and other Archenlanders graciously lent us."

The reply Cari had formulated never left her mouth, however, for just then Mr. Tumnus trotted over to ask apologetically if he could borrow the king for a moment. No sooner had King Peter gone off with him than Cari was accidentally bumped into by Corin, who had returned from the refreshment tables with his brother.

"Sorry, Cari," he offered, holding out an arm to steady her.

Cor rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Corin. Aren't you at least going to offer to dance a waltz with her?"

Cari bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud, as both she and Cor knew exactly how much Corin hated waltzes. However, he merely raised an eyebrow and looked over to his right, where Cari caught sight of Aravis just a few feet away.

"Sure, if you dance one with Aravis," he said, grinning.

Cor shot her a mock-pleading look. "And spend the whole dance getting reminded that I tripped her and knocked the basket off of her head _by accident_ earlier today?"

"If you must know, Cor," said Aravis, who, turning to the group, caused the older twin to jump ever so slightly, "I was only planning on reminding you of it for half the dance; for the other half, we can discuss anything you like."

Cor threw her such a comical look at this that both girls burst out laughing. As the music for the next dance began, Cor's face reddened, and he muttered something about girls, but he bowed to Aravis nonetheless, as Corin did to Cari.

"She can almost tease him better than I can sometimes," he remarked, as the two stepped away from each other and then made three quick turns each to end up back together.

Cari raised a playful eyebrow at him. "Almost?"

The following day, Cari and her family accompanied King Peter and his siblings for a cliff-top luncheon at the Narnians' favorite picnicking spot, just over two miles south of the castle. It was a sunny day, although cooler than the previous few, and after eating, the picnickers kept warm by skipping stones on the bank of the nearby Great River.

Eventually it came time to return to the castle, but the twins, who were immensely enjoying trying to out-skip each other's shots, begged to stay behind a bit longer. Corin in particular wanted to take a nearby path, which both he and his father had been on before, that took advantage of the lower cliffs in that area to slope gently down to the beach, near the waterfalls created by the cascading river.

"Cari'll stay here and make sure we get back in time for supper," he added, grinning. Cari narrowed her eyes at him, but before King Lune could say anything, Queen Lucy put in, "And so will I, Lune, if Cari wishes to return with you. The path is not too difficult to climb back up, and the horses can bear us back to the castle more quickly without all of the picnic gear. In any case, it has been too long since I have been down next to the falls." She smiled as she inclined her head toward the cliff's edge.

Neither King Lune nor any of the other monarchs had any objections to this, nor did Aravis, who was also eager to see the falls. Upon hearing Queen Lucy's enthusiastic description of their beauty, Cari, despite her slight headache, was tempted herself to join them. Seeing this, Corin asked her if she would not like to go along.

Cari bit her lip. "I am not sure I am sufficiently skilled at cliff-hiking to keep up with you four," she finally replied.

Her brother waved away the objection. "Don't worry about that. Cor and I can carry you if we need to." As Cari narrowed her eyes at him, he added, "Here, I'll toss one more stone with you. If yours goes farther, you can go back to the castle, but if mine goes farther, you can come with us."

Cari sighed. "All right," she said, picking up an especially flat, sleek stone.

They made their tosses, and Corin's stone went decidedly farther than his sister's. Having conceded defeat, she went with him to see off their father and the other three Narnians, all of whom wished them a pleasant excursion before returning to the castle. Cari, in the midst of rubbing the back of her neck, turned to see Corin regarding her with a look of actual concern on his face.

"You all right, there, Cari?" he asked, then added hurriedly, "I was only having a bit of fun, you know. You don't have to come with us if you would rather not."

Lowering her hand, Cari shook her head. "A bargain is a bargain, Corin, and in any case, I am fine." _Heavens only know I've had worse headaches in any case._

A few more skipped rocks later, the party left the riverbank and headed east toward the top of the cliffs overlooking the southern beaches, which rose up farther than usual in conjunction with the decline in cliff height. The unusual gradients proved conducive to Queen Lucy's favorite hiking path, a winding affair worn by the generations of previous monarchs into the face of the gradually sloping cliff.

"The rocks have been worn down fairly well, but you still do need to watch your step, especially going down," the queen cautioned the four siblings as they reached the head of the trail. "And the slope is steepest at the bottom, so you'll have to use a bit of extra caution there." She looked meaningfully at Corin, who grinned and replied, "Of course, Queen Lucy."

_I should think so,_ Cari silently agreed as she peered downward. The trail did not slope as steeply as she had initially feared, and it had enough rocks jutting out at the sides to use as supports if needed, but she still wished she had returned to the castle with her father. _No use regretting it now, though, and I daresay Father wouldn't have let us go if he hadn't deemed it safe enough._

Queen Lucy, noticing the older girl's reverie, touched her on the shoulder. "Are you sure you would like to go, Cari?" she asked. "I can accompany you back to the horses if you wish; I am sure your brothers and Aravis would not mind waiting for a few more minutes."

Cari shook her head. "No, Queen Lucy, it's all right. I trust your judgment and my father's."

However, she waited for everyone else to begin heading downwards before she followed them. Cor, immediately in front of her, turned and smiled encouragingly as she took a deep breath and prepared to follow him.

"You'll be fine, Cari," he said. "It can't possibly be as bad as the trip we took from Calormen to get here, and you did wonderfully well at that. Just try to look up instead of down." His eyes took on a teasing glint. "And even if you do slip, Corin and I will catch you."

Indeed, the first half of the trail proved far easier to traverse than Cari had initially feared. The rocks on the surface were worn down enough not to jut treacherously upwards, and there was enough dust and soil on them to prevent her from slipping too easily. Only the path's relative narrowness bothered her, as it required the climbers to go single file in most places. Still, she found her brother's advice helpful; the odd angle of the sun's rays shining through the trees near the cliff's edge, together with the swooping of the seagulls and the rush of the nearby waterfall, engrossed her enough to keep her mind off of most of her worries.

When they were about halfway down the cliff, Cari noticed that the sun was disappearing more and more often behind the clouds that had until then merely scudded around it. The farther down the path she climbed, the faster the clouds seemed to spawn more of themselves, until finally the sky was completely overcast. By the time the climbers had reached the broad overlook preceding the last, steepest part of the trail, she found herself clinging to a small outcropping on the face of the cliff as a strong gust of wind swooped in from the south. _Blast it,_ she thought, gripping the rock so tightly that her knuckles whitened around it._ I can't wait until we reach the bottom of this everlasting cliff, where I shall at least have firm ground on which to stand. _

Queen Lucy repeated her cautions about the trail's steepness before everybody headed downward again, this time with Cari directly behind her and the other three bringing up the rear.

"Don't worry, Cari," the queen said brightly as she turned to face the cliff so that she could use a few of the rocks as footholds to attain the next portion of the path. "We're very nearly there; this drop-off I'm on is the hardest part, and then we're down straight away."

Taking a deep breath, partly for courage and partly to quell her rising headache, Cari slowly turned as the younger girl had done and, looking down only far enough to spot the rock on which she would be resting her feet, grabbed two overhanging stones near her head to let herself down. Fighting the urge to look down even farther, she instead craned her neck upward toward the top of the cliff. As she did so, a sharp pain shot across the back of her head, and she gasped involuntarily as she gripped the rock so tightly that her knuckles whitened.

"Cari, are you all right?" Queen Lucy's worried voice had just barely registered with Cari when she felt her grip slipping. Panicking, she threw her hand up farther on the rock, but, finding her grasp no more secure, she threw a quick glance downward and steadied both of her feet as best she could on the rock ledge, letting go of both rocks her hands had been grasping at the same time. Leaning forward against the cliff face for balance, she looked down again and saw another rock jutting out as a stepping stone between her and a more solid ledge that sat only a few feet above the beach. Just as she turned and hopped downward toward the rock, she heard Queen Lucy calling, "I'm coming back up for you, Cari!"

_No, Queen Lucy, don't! _Cari wanted to reply, but the combination of her sudden downward momentum and her fright rendered her voiceless. She landed feet first on the rock just as the younger girl reached up from below to grab it and climb upward. Just as she did so, Cari's left foot landed hard on the younger girl's grasping hand, causing her to emit a yelp of pain and drop out of view with a terrifying succession of thuds and yells.


	35. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: Had you thinking I'd double-posted, did I? Sorry to disappoint you and give you another new chapter to read instead. With all honesty, though, I do hope you like them both. **

"Queen Lucy! No!" screamed Cari, and, forgetting her caution, she jumped off the rock onto the ledge beneath her. Whirling around to see Queen Lucy lying motionless on the beach below with one leg bent behind her, she took a flying leap, landed awkwardly on the sand, and immediately pitched forward onto all fours so she could crawl to the younger girl's side.

"Queen Lucy!" she exclaimed, shaking the queen by the arm in her terror. "Queen Lucy, please! Can you hear me?"

The younger girl let out a long, pained moan before she slowly opened her eyes, to Cari's immense relief. "Cari," she ground out, blinking as she focused on the older girl's face. "Are you all right?"

_How on earth can she say that when she's the one lying there with heavens know what injuries because of me?_ Cari wondered ever so briefly before she nodded. "I'm fine, Queen Lucy; it's you who needs worrying about. Can you see me all right?"

The younger girl nodded slowly. "Yes, it's fine; it's just – my leg hurts. My right leg, I mean." She shifted, trying to get a look at the affected limb, but stopped suddenly and emitted another groan of pain.

"No, don't – " Before Cari could finish her injunction, however, she heard a heavy thud on the sand beside her, and whipped her head around to see a very worried Corin. A few more seconds brought Aravis and Cor, both white-faced, to their knees beside the queen.

"Cari, what happened?" said Aravis, although she was staring at the moaning Queen Lucy.

"Queen Lucy, are you all right?" exclaimed Corin simultaneously, eliciting a weak, "Yes, thank you, Corin," from the object of everybody's concern. "I only really hurt my ankle, I think."

Corin stared at the lower half of the limb in question, which was bent once at the knee behind the queen and then again at an odder angle at the ankle joint.

"I'll straighten it for you, Queen Lucy," he said, moving to grasp her lower leg, but Cari stopped him.

"You might hurt it more, Corin," she admonished him, her voice shaking.

At this, the queen shook her head. "No, it should be fine if he moves it slowly," she said, then turned to Corin. "Just bend it to face straight out in front of me, Corin, and don't touch my ankle; I'm fairly certain it's broken."

Cari gasped and put her hand over her mouth, nearly causing the tears that had gathered behind her eyelids to spill over onto the queen's dress. "Queen Lucy, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, once she had steadied her voice enough to speak.

The younger girl reached out and took Cari's hand in her own. "Cari, don't fret over it. I should have waited for you to respond before just leaping up after you, anyway. Heaven only knows I've been climbing long enough to know that." She smiled weakly, then suddenly squeezed the older girl's hand tightly with a sharp intake of breath as Corin moved her leg forward.

"No, Corin, it's all right – keep moving it," she managed as the boy paused and turned to her. "You're doing very well."

Corin's hands, however, were shaking by now, and his brother darted to his side to help him finish the task. When they had finished, the young queen smiled approvingly.

"Thank you, Corin; thank you, Cor," she said, then turned to Cari. "Cari, I am sorry, but could I bother you to help me sit up so I can take a look at my ankle?"

Much as Cor had done for Corin, Aravis sprang to the trembling Cari's aid, and together the two soon had Queen Lucy sitting in an upright position. At her direction, the two other girls undid the leather laces on her right shoe and removed her stocking to reveal a sprawling bruise of mottled brown and purple at the junction of her ankle. Cari almost failed to notice this, however, in light of the position of the joint itself, which was bent so slightly as to look very nearly normal; only after she blinked and refocused her gaze did she realize that it was indeed out of position and, as the younger girl had said, most likely broken. She had to bite her lip hard to keep from exclaiming in horror; next to her, Aravis's face was so pale it had taken on a hint of green.

Queen Lucy's measured sigh snapped Cari out of her distress. "Not as bad as I thought," she finally said, almost as if talking to herself. "I suppose I shouldn't try to reset it here, though; binding it should work until Sir Pennock can set it."

"You want us to take your shoe all the way off so we can bind your ankle, then?" Cari asked, the tremor still in her voice.

The young queen shook her head. "No, binding it over the shoe will be better; it will have the laces to support it that way."

No sooner had Cari nodded than Cor and Corin, who had retreated to give the two girls space to undo Queen Lucy's shoe, were at her side once again, both removing their tunics. The queen smiled weakly as she watched Cor begin ripping into his.

"Oh, thank you, but one should be – fine," she managed, one corner of her mouth edging farther upward as she finished, for Corin had just torn his tunic as well.

Under Queen Lucy's direction, the four siblings spent the next several minutes creating thick strips of cloth and wrapping them around her injured ankle. Cari caught the young queen wincing a few times and quickly asked her if they should not bind it a bit more loosely, but she always shook her head and replied that it needed to be as well supported as possible, which would not happen if the wrappings were applied too lightly. Remembering the queen's especial talents in the healing arts, Cari always acquiesced, but every time the younger girl winced, she bit her lip and shuddered inwardly.

"I am so sorry, Queen Lucy," she apologized again, once the ankle had been wrapped tightly.

The queen shook her head. "Do – think nothing of it, Cari," she said, her voice now taking on some of her face's wan quality. "You intended me no harm, and I do not fault you for any of it." She started and blinked then, and Cari noticed a large, wet tear hovering on her forehead that had not been there just a moment ago. She was just wondering how on earth anyone could cry upwards when she felt a similar drop hit the top of her head, then another on her hand. _Oh, right, it's raining. Blast it._ She immediately turned toward the path they had all just descended to gauge how long it would take them to maneuver Queen Lucy back up it, and as she did, the rain began to fall in earnest.

"That path might make it too hard for all of you to get up safely, I am afraid," said the soft voice at her elbow, and Cari turned to see the young queen watching herself, in addition to the twins and Aravis, all of whom were looking at the path just as Cari had. "Although, if you like, I can certainly wait on one of the ledges while you return to Cair Paravel and ask to have someone sent out before the weather gets too much worse." She shivered as a gust of wind whistled past her.

This, of course, elicited strong objections from all four siblings, none of whom would hear of leaving her, and she smiled weakly again.

"Barring that alternative," Queen Lucy went on, "we could head north and ford the river near the falls. The quays are only two miles or so beyond that, and we could wait under shelter there until the storm blows over or harp – I mean, help – arrives." She took a slow, carefully measured breath, and Cari, who had both suffered and seen her share of injuries during her years in Calormen, quickly detected the pain the younger girl was trying her hardest to hide. One look at Cor showed that she was not the only one to realize it.

"We should be able to manage that quite well, Queen Lucy," she said aloud, nodding toward her siblings. "There are four of us, so we should have no problem taking turns at carrying you."

Slowly and carefully, the twins helped the young queen up, making to form a chair of sorts with their intertwined arms. However, she only shook her head.

"It will be easier on the both of you if all of us are standing," she said, raising her voice a bit to counter the rain, which was now drumming assiduously on the sand. When Corin opened his mouth to protest, she only shook her head. "I'll be fine, Corin. We'll make better speed this way, too, and we'll need it if we are to get well past the mud cliffs before the rain begins washing them away." She nodded ahead and to their left, and Cari, remembering their conversation three days before, felt her heart quicken its pace.

"Queen Lucy's right," she said quickly, seeing the look of protest on Cor's face. "We need to hurry."

Corin, who had opened his mouth again while the queen was speaking, shut it without another word. He and Corin wound their arms around her back and shoulders, and the entire party set off as fast as Queen Lucy's ankle would allow, slowly wending their way inward toward the cliffs to allow for the incoming tide.

Cor and Corin bore up valiantly for perhaps a quarter of a mile; Cari, seeing their pace slow, called out to Aravis, and the two took over helping Queen Lucy along despite the boys' protests, which Cari cut short with a brusque, "No time for it, Corin; we need to go as fast as we can." Turning to the injured girl, she asked, "Are you all right, Queen Lucy?"

The young queen nodded, but was unable to keep a gasp of pain from hissing between her teeth. "I'll be fine, Cari; we just need to go quickly."

Cari nodded and turned to Aravis, who nodded back. As they hoisted Queen Lucy's weight between them, Cari's head protested with a fresh, piercing wave of pain that dwarfed its previous throbbing. However, she did not protest, merely squinting and biting her tongue to dull the sensation as she and Aravis set the pace for the boys.

By the time Aravis and Cari handed the queen back to the twins, the wind had picked up considerably and been joined by intermittent, distant thundering, and Cor had to yell to get Cari, who was only a few feet away, to hear him when he and Corin took their sisters' places.

"We need to go faster!" he exclaimed, looping Queen Lucy's left arm from Cari's shoulder onto his own as he bent to look the injured girl in the face. "Is that all right, Queen Lucy?"

The young queen, clearly exhausted and in a good deal of pain, merely nodded, and seconds later the five were off at as brisk a trot as the twins could manage. Not a hundred yards later, however, this proved to be their undoing, as Corin caught his foot in a particularly deep dent of sand and went sprawling. Queen Lucy, caught off guard, landed squarely on her injured ankle and emitted a sharp cry of pain before pitching forward onto Corin and rolling off into a crumpled heap on the soaking sand.

"Queen Lucy!" shrieked Cari and Aravis, almost in unison, as they sprang forward to help the girl up, but she clearly could not hear them, as she lay senseless on the ground. Cor and Corin, neither of whom had been hurt, joined in their sisters' efforts, but to no avail.

"Oh, blast it. Oh, _blast_ it!" Cari exclaimed, shivering involuntarily as she wiped the excess rain from her forehead. For once, Corin was speechless, but his eyes clearly echoed her sentiments.

"Nicely done, Corin, but we'll have to carry her chair-wise now, I suppose," Aravis managed after a few moments.

"If you can't at the moment, Aravis and I will take over," Cari added, even as she peered through the rain at the cliffs, then back over the fresh protests of her throbbing head to the shoreline, which had shrunk alarmingly over the past hour. _Blast it. We can't have gone anywhere near a mile yet. At this rate, we'll be driven against the mud cliffs – in the midst of the rain, no less – and if we didn't have to worry about the tide rising the way Queen Lucy said it does, the mudslide would still trap us._ Out loud, however, all she said was, "Come on, Aravis. We need to hurry."

Aravis obeyed without another word, and within less than a minute, they were off again, this time heading almost directly inland toward the cliffs. Over the rain, wind, and rumbling thunder, Cari soon distinguished the noise of loudly rushing water, and knew they must be approaching the falls where the Great River met the sea. _Oh, no. According to what Queen Lucy said, the mud cliffs continue for at least another half a mile. There's no way we'll make it past them at this rate. We should turn back now and try to find some sort of overhanging rock to shelter under, minding we even manage to get ourselves out of range of the mudslides quickly enough – _

"Cari! Aravis! Cor!" Corin's yell interrupted her panic, and, looking up, she saw him gesturing toward a broad indentation in the cliff, located just above their heads and a few overhanging rocks.

"We can climb up there," he shouted; "Cor and I can, and you two – " he nodded to Aravis and Cari – "can hand Queen Lucy up to us. There's a ledge along just there – " his hand swept off to the right – "that we can use to get her up to that hollow over there."

Cari followed her brother's hand upwards, and there was indeed a second hollow, barely distinguishable in the gathering dusk, at a height Cari judged enough to keep the tide at bay.

"All right," she agreed, and turned to Aravis and Cor. Both nodded, and they all set off, plodding carefully across the now-muddy beach. Despite her caution, Cari very nearly tripped as Corin had, as her foot caught in a patch of particularly wet sand. Luckily, she kept her footing, and Aravis was going slowly enough not to pull her sister headlong onto the ground.

They reached the face of the cliff just as a terrific peal of thunder rent the air with a loud _crack_, causing all four siblings to jump simultaneously. Aravis and Cari kept their hold on Queen Lucy, though this was becoming a progressively harder task given how slippery the rain had made everything; the two girls found themselves adjusting their grip on the injured queen every few steps. When they finally reached the ledge Corin had pointed out, Cari breathed out a long sigh of relief.

"Be careful, Corin!" she called as he grabbed hold of an outcropping just over his head and swung his feet up onto a narrower rock a foot or two from the ground.

Corin gave no sign that he had heard her, but he climbed much more slowly than was his wont; clearly, the rocks were as slippery as Queen Lucy's robes. He finally attained the ledge, though, and signaled to Cor, who had been watching his brother carefully.

After a couple of near-misses that set Cari's heart to thudding almost as painfully as her head, Cor finally reached his brother's side. Cari's eyes, which had been focused intensely on her brothers' progress, finally swept to the side for a moment. Through the rain-laden dusk, she could just make out the sprawling moss covering the face of the cliff in its entirety, both to the boys' right and to their left.

_Wait. Moss? I don't remember seeing any of that on the way down,_ Cari realized. She squinted harder than she had thought possible, ignoring her head's screaming protests, and discovered that she could now see the moss on the rocks her brothers had just used for climbing. _That's impossible. It wasn't there just a moment ago! _She blinked several times and shook her head as gingerly as she could before refocusing on the cliff. _No, it's still there. What on earth – ?_

Suddenly, the realization hit her stomach with a sickening thud. Terror held her fast for a few moments until, clearing her throat with a mighty effort, she tilted her head upward and screamed as loudly as she could.

"Corin! Cor! Get down from there _now_!" she yelled. Both twins stared at her as though she had taken leave of her senses.

"Cari, are you mad? This is no time to joke!" Corin hollered back, but she cut off any further protests with a wave of the hand she had just freed from Aravis's grip, as she bent to take the impact of its loosening from Queen Lucy.

"No! Get down _now_! We're in the middle of the mud cliffs!" she screamed, paying no attention to their confused looks. "That cliff is made of salt silt! If the rain keeps up, it will dissolve it and make the cliff collapse!" Both twins were still staring at her incredulously, and she finally stamped her foot in desperation. "Queen Lucy told me so! Get _down_ here – _now_!"

The mention of the queen's name snapped the two boys out of their apparent indecision, and not two minutes later, they had descended from the ledge and dropped to their feet at Cari's side.

By the time the boys had reached their older sister, however, she was gaping in open-mouthed horror at the cliffs beyond them. All had taken on the eerie, moss-hued sheen Queen Lucy had described to Cari during their knife-throwing practice days before. _No. Oh, no. No. If Queen Lucy spoke truly, we may have only minutes – perhaps not even that long – before the rains begin washing all of the silt and loam off and create a mudslide that will likely as not kill us all._

A cry from Corin snapped Cari's train of thought. She followed his trembling hand, which was pointing back in the direction from which they had come. She and Cor let out simultaneous gasps of horror as they stared at what appeared to be a thick green liquid begin to trickle in tandem with the pounding rain down the face of the cliff. Cari watched, fascinated despite herself, as the trickling grew, gathering steam as it descended, until it reached the bottom of the cliffs with a splash and sprawled outwards, reaching the encroaching waves in less than a minute. A scream from Aravis brought her gaze back to the top of the cliff, where another rivulet had formed, and then another beside it, and both rushed downward together like a dark, raging stream. This one hit a lower outcropping much like the one the twins had climbed only minutes earlier, and in a matter of seconds it had obliterated the narrow shelf, which had collapsed to flow with it outward toward the sea.

_And there goes the only other way I could think of,_ thought Cari, shivering violently. On instinct, she turned her head, hoping against hope for some break in the awful green. As she did so, her ears caught the noise of the falls again. _Wait. Didn't Queen Lucy say that there was a hollow very near the falls that's free of the silt? If we can just reach it before the mud and tide reach us –_

"Corin! Cor! Aravis!" she yelled, bringing three terrified pairs of eyes to fix on hers. She inclined her head in the direction of the falls. "There's a hollow up that way, with no silt! If we hurry up, we can reach it!" She reached over with her still-free right hand to smack Aravis's, which startled the younger girl out of her horrified trance. "Aravis, come on! Let's go!"

The younger girl blinked sharply at her, then bent over to boost the injured queen. Cari hastily reached over to form the armlock that would keep their passenger secured. She rose to find herself face-to-face with Cor, whose face was now covered in concern instead of frozen, abject horror.

"Cari, maybe Corin and I should – " he began, but his sister immediately cut him off with a sharp shake that caused a fresh burst of pain to sear through the back of her head.

"No time for it, Cor! Let's go!"

Cari and Aravis spent the next several minutes dashing along the beach as wildly as they could without dropping Queen Lucy. The roar of the approaching water, from waves and falls alike, alternated with the insistent pangs that throbbed in her head. Never, however, had she cared less about how her head felt; her sole ambition was to run as fast as she could. And whether it was from sheer terror or from her determination to see Queen Lucy and the others to safety, she found herself not only keeping up with Aravis, who had always been the swifter runner, but also exhorting the younger girl every time she could spare a gasped word or two. Cor and Corin kept but a few feet ahead of the three girls, and it was as well that they did, for Cari and Aravis stumbled several times between them, and it was almost always a grasping hand or solid shoulder from one of their brothers that kept them from collapsing altogether.

Just as Cari was realizing that she had not had the breath to speak to Aravis for some time, she felt a lurch to her left, coupled with screams from all three of her siblings. Turning her head sharply to the left and receiving a dizzying pang for her trouble, she saw a torrent of greenish mud, much like the one that had sparked their flight, surging off of the cliff directly next to them and heading straight for Aravis. Just as she turned to take flight, she felt an almighty jerk to her sleeve, and turned to see Cor in front of her, dragging her away from the flow just as Corin did the same to Aravis.

How all four siblings, plus the still-unconscious Queen Lucy, managed to avoid all but a few splatters from the mudslide, Cari never knew, but within a few moments they were all safely out of the way, at least for the moment. No sooner, however, had Corin yelled above the rising wind and rain, "You all right?" and the others replied in the affirmative, than the twins promptly took the injured queen from Aravis and Cari, who immediately raised her hand to her eyes, keeping a bit of the rain out as she peered at the cliffs ahead of them. It took several moments, but she finally spotted the hollow through the gathering darkness, its face just visible beside the eerie green of the surrounding crags.

"Cari, come _on_ – " Aravis's frantic voice pulled the older girl out of her concentration, but it trailed off as she peered toward the focus of her sister's attentions. The younger girl then turned to Cor and Corin, who were just behind them, and shouted, "Cari's right! The hollow's right up there – I can see it!"

Just before she turned back toward the hollow, Cari caught sight of her brothers' faces, both of them more relieved than she had ever seen them. She smiled faintly as she ran to catch up with Aravis, who had taken her turn to lead their flight toward the hollow.

The rain had now become a downpour, which made the siblings' progress doubly hard; it impeded their speed and view, as well as washing the silt from the cliffs with terrifying intensity. More than once, both girls had to drop back and drag their brothers out of a torrent of mud. During the second or third such instance, Cari, who had pulled at Cor a bit harder than she had intended, stuck out her right foot to steady herself, then jumped in astonishment and fell backwards with a yell and a splash into the sea. She was up before Aravis could help her, but her eyes widened in disbelief at how close they had gotten to the cliffs already. _Oh, no. The rain's swelling the tides too fast – at this rate we'll be lucky to reach the hollow while the sea's risen only a foot or two up the faces of the cliffs!_

"I'm fine!" she hollered, once Corin's yell of concern had snapped her out of her train of thought. "I'm sorry! We need to hurry – Aravis, come here and let's take Queen Lucy! No arguing, Corin!" she added, as the latter opened his mouth. Before either he or Cor had a chance to complete a sentence of protest, the two girls had taken hold of the injured queen and dashed off with renewed speed toward the hollow, their every step now registering with a squelch or splash as they plowed their way through mud and waterlogged sand alike. Soon, as the tide rose even more quickly than Cari had anticipated, they were wading through water as well. At last, they were driven straight up against the cliffs, and every thud of Cari's rapidly beating heart was fraught with terror over the very real possibility of obliteration by falling mud.

Suddenly, over the noise of the storm and her own heartbeats, Cari heard a piercing yell from one of the twins. Both she and Aravis pulled up sharply, and only just in time; a few steps more, and both girls would have been swallowed up by the flood of melted silt that had just gushed off of the cliff straight ahead of them. As it was, the twins both had to jump several steps backward to avoid the onrush, which collided with the incoming waves with an explosion of eerie green foam barely feet from all four siblings. The torrent slowed only minutely, but Corin nevertheless put out a foot to test its speed until Cor's yell pulled him back.

"No, Corin!" he shouted, gesturing wildly toward the incoming tide. "We'll go around it, all right? The waves are pushing against it; they're bound to neutralize it enough for us to get through!"

_I should have thought of that,_ Cari muttered inwardly, even as she jerked Aravis and Queen Lucy off to her right, inclining her head to indicate to the younger girl that they should follow Cor's lead.

"Be careful, Cor – Corin!" she yelled, but her voice was lost in the wind. Corin, however, heeded her advice for once, as he went to near thigh depth in the sea before turning and taking a few cautious steps to his left, back toward the cliffs. Cor was right behind him, and both signaled to the two girls that it was safe. It was far from easy, however; Cari's legs, which had begun to tire from stepping and sloshing through mud, were now forced to struggle harder than ever, this time through the swirling water, mud, and rocks that were fighting for supremacy over several inches of already-settled silt. Both girls stumbled several times, and in the end they had to stretch Queen Lucy across the toughest patch of mud, nearly tossing her into the arms of their brothers. Aravis caught her right leg in a particularly deep spot there, and it took both Cari and Cor to yank her out while Corin, supporting Queen Lucy, looked on in terror.

Once out of the range of the mudslide, they angled inward as quickly as possible across what had been a particularly pebbly stretch of beach. Cari kicked up so many rocks that she lost count within a minute or two, and both she and Aravis were hit by nearly as many that were unintentionally kicked up by the two boys behind them. Only the increasing depth of the water, which was now washing straight up against the cliffs, prevented the rocks from flying any higher than the girls' knees.

_Blast it – blast it – blast it,_ resounded in Cari's throbbing head in time with her panting, which suddenly caught over a sharp twinge in her right side. She straightened up momentarily to relieve it, but, seeing Aravis get several steps ahead of her, she took off again. She tried to lean to her left to avoid the pain, but it was no use; every few steps she felt a stab in her side. One was so sharp that she stumbled forward and felt a pang in her left palm. _Blasted pebbles,_ she thought as she pulled herself up.

The water had risen above both girls' knees by then, and up to the knees of both twins. Despite her headache, Cari forced herself to crane her neck upward every twoscore steps or so to calculate the distance to the hollow. Her heart sank further with every glance, as the water rose and the hollow refused to get any nearer, until she was momentarily interrupted by a shriek from Aravis, pointing to a torrent of mud racing down the cliff just ahead of them. Realizing that the boys could not support Queen Lucy safely through deeper water should they rush out to avoid the torrent as they had the last time, both girls leaped back and half-dragged, half-pushed the twins toward the hollow just in time; Aravis was splashed by an errant wave of mud, but remarkably kept her balance and urged the other three onward. By this point, the water had climbed dangerously close to Cari's waist, and she could barely keep up with the boys, let alone Aravis.

_Heavens save us – or save the boys and Aravis and Queen Lucy!_ she nearly screamed in panic as a particularly large wave swept in and broadsided her in the face, which had been upturned toward the still out-of-reach hollow. _Just a little longer – all we need is a minute or two – oh, please – _

As if in response to her desperation, another wave rolled in, this time seemingly from to her right and slightly behind her, pushing her forward toward the hollow. Startled, she whipped around to look behind her.

Standing atop the waves not ten feet away was the cat that had led her through Tashbaan, its brilliant green eyes staring at her unblinkingly.

Astonished, Cari leaped nearly out of the water, her mouth gaping wordlessly at the sight. As she splashed back down, another wave washed clean over her head. By the time she had rid her eyes and mouth of the water, the creature was gone. However, her brothers' whoops over to her left caused her to turn her head in time to see them being swept toward the hollow along with her. Given their delighted expressions, they had not seen the cat, so Cari followed their lead. As they had done, she kicked up her legs and pushed out her arms, letting the water bear her along while looking over to see if the cat had reappeared. Seeing that it had not, she turned to make sure the waves were not smashing her brothers against the cliff. To her relief, they did not, and the next time she looked up to judge the distance to the hollow, she at first could not see it, then, craning her neck over farther, realized that it was just a few feet ahead, much closer than she had thought. One stroke later, she saw Aravis's dark head bobbing several feet in front of her, then a slim brown arm reaching to catch an overhanging rock. Two seconds later, she realized that the rock was not green. Pushing her feet down to the bottom of the now chest-deep water, she turned and let out a whoop in her brothers' direction.

"Over here!" she heard Aravis shout above the boys' yells of elation. Less than a minute later, they and Queen Lucy were at Cari's side, directly below Aravis, who was now perched atop a narrow ledge a few feet above the water.

"There's a wider one up there," she called, pointing upward, and sure enough, Cari could see a broad span of rock jutting out from the face of the cliff perhaps a dozen feet above them. "I think we can manage the handholds if we're careful."

She reached up into the darkness, apparently feeling for an abutment Cari could not see, but Corin prevented her from attaining it.

"I'll climb it once I get up there," he called, craning his neck upward to make eye contact with her, and she immediately dropped her hand.

"I – no – right," she coughed in reply; apparently a drop or two of rain had gotten into her mouth.

The twins wasted no time. Corin gestured to Cari, who swam over to take his place at Cor's side. As soon as she had gotten a secure hold on the injured queen, Corin reached up, grabbed the overhanging rock Aravis had used, and pulled himself upwards onto the ledge beside her.

"Get her on your shoulders," he called down to Cari and Cor, who looked at each other and nodded three counts in unison, as they had done so often when lifting the table or the full dish bucket at Arsheesh's hut in Calormen. Cor had no trouble with his end of the task, but Cari had to strain as hard as she could, and even then she could not quite get her shoulder under Queen Lucy; Cor finally had to reach over and boost both girls up into their proper position before Corin and Aravis could reach down to take the injured queen's hands. After a good deal of puffing and straining, they managed to roll her onto the ledge.

"Cari, get on up!" yelled Cor. Seeing the protest in her eyes, he added, "I'm taller, so you first!"

Conceding the point, Cari obeyed, although it took a boost or two from her brother and a helping hand from Aravis to get her up onto the ledge. She immediately reached over to put two fingers to Queen Lucy's neck. Just as she did so, the injured girl moaned.

"Queen Lucy, can you hear me?" Cari queried anxiously, but received no response. Luckily, the younger girl's heartbeat pulsed quick and strong under her fingers, but she jumped back in surprise when she felt something slippery and warm flood them. Pulling her hand away, she realized that it was blood from a gash on her palm. _Oh, right. I must have cut it on that pebble. Blast it._ She peered closer, then let out a sigh of relief when she saw that the wound was not severe.

"She all right?" Cor's worried voice, now right behind Cari, caused her to start and quickly lower her hand to rub it on her skirt as she nodded.

"She's fine," she replied, a bit more shortly than she had intended, for her head had protested her movements with a fresh pang, a pang that sent a wave of heat through her body along with the pain. It was then that she realized how well the water had cooled her, and how warm the air around her felt now, despite the fact that her brothers and Aravis were shivering.

_Oh, no. Not again. Not now. Please hold off, please – just let me help everybody get to some measure of safety before I pass out. Please._

"Right," said Corin, who was peering straight up at the barely visible overhang above his head. He turned back to the others. "I'll make my way up there to figure the handholds. Aravis'll have to come behind me and pull Queen Lucy while Cor boosts her up, and Cari – "

Cari, however, cut him off there. "Corin, Aravis should go first," she said.

"I'm the best climber," he retorted, and Aravis did not disagree with him.

"I know that," Cari answered, "but Aravis can climb very well, and you're stronger than she is. Queen Lucy needs the two strongest people supporting her, and that's you and Cor."

Corin opened his mouth to protest, but an eerie flash of light behind the clouds in the distance and a low growl of thunder cut him off. He threw a nervous glance downward at the rising tide, which was now nearly at the small overhanging rock they had all used to propel themselves up to the ledge, before he turned back to Cari and nodded his assent. He moved to make way for Aravis, who immediately began making her way upward.

"Aravis, be careful!" Cari could not help calling out. The younger girl merely nodded, but Cari could see that she was taking her time feeling out the cliff face as she ascended. Further lightning flashes briefly illuminated her path, and after what seemed an eternity to Cari, she pulled herself up onto the larger outcropping.

"It's all right, Corin," she called downward. "There are a couple of tricky holds about two-thirds of the way up, but you can handle them if you're careful."

"All right; we're coming," Corin had to yell back twice; his first try was drowned out by a crack of thunder. He made his way over to Queen Lucy, over whom Cari had hunched to try and lessen the impact of the rain upon her, but stopped just as he was about to bend over her.

"Cor," he said to his brother, who was right behind him, "we should probably tie her between us. That way, if either of us takes a bad step, she won't fall, 'cause she'll have support."

"Right," assented his twin, and before Cari knew it, both boys had stripped off the overshirts they had been wearing under their now-shredded tunics and used them to bind themselves to the queen; her right hand was tied to Corin's waist, and her left leg to Cor's left arm. Once the knots were tight, the two lost no time in lifting her as gently as they could to the first handhold Aravis had used, which Corin now grasped firmly.

"Wait," he called out, then turned to Cari. "Cari, you'll have to climb up straight after us, just in case Cor or I slips and can't hold on."

Cari stared at his face, illuminated by another flash of lightning, for several moments before his words fully sank into her mind. Even then, knowing he had the right of it, she stood frozen for a few more seconds before willing her feet to take the few steps to Cor's side.

"All – all right," she managed, forming a firm fist with her right hand to keep her fingers, now sticky from dried blood, from gravitating to her earlobe. Cor, seeing her reaction, reached underneath his bound right hand and patted her on the shoulder.

"You'll do fine, Cari," he said, his tone low and oddly comforting. He smiled wanly as he added, "Don't worry; I won't let you fall."

Cari nodded and let out a long sigh. "Be careful," she said, as he released his hold on her.

Both twins heeded her advice, making their upward progress slow but sure. When Cor turned and called "All right, Cari," she reached up, grabbed the jutting rock just above her head, and began pulling herself upward. Both the now-frequent lightning and the pouring rain proved to be blessings in disguise during the tortuous journey that followed; the lightning illuminated the hollows and outcroppings that served as the siblings' way up, and the rain cooled Cari's cheeks, which were by now heating rapidly.

About halfway up, any worries Cari had about her fever were obliterated by Corin, who very nearly lost his footing and sent Queen Lucy swinging dangerously close to oblivion. Cari, her heart leaping into her throat, reached up as far as she could, trying desperately to grab Cor's leg to support him even as he swung far to his right. To her horror, she could not reach far enough, but Cor, keeping an impossible foothold above his sister's head as he reached out to support the queen, managed to hold onto her until Corin could regain his hold. As he steadied her, Cari shuddered and leaned into the face of the cliff. It was the first time she could remember shivering all day.

Once the twins had righted themselves, they and Cari continued their upward journey. With a good deal of shouted help from Aravis, they all picked their way through the difficult handholds near the top and finally managed to hoist first Queen Lucy, then themselves, up onto the ledge. As she and Corin maneuvered the injured queen into a sitting position against the cliff to shelter her from the rain, Cari shivered again and let out a long sigh of relief. Only after she had raised her head did she notice Aravis huddled over barely two steps from her, cradling her right hand to her side as if in pain.

Cari immediately lowered herself beside the younger girl. "Aravis, what's wrong?" she asked.

Aravis shook her head. "Nothing. I just twisted my wrist a bit on my way up here."

Cari raised an eyebrow at her, cutting off worried exclamations from Cor and Corin, both of whom had gathered around the two girls. "A bit? Aravis, let me see it." Seeing the younger girl about to protest, she added, "If you let me feel it a bit, I can probably tell if it's broken. Cor broke his wrist once back in Calormen, and I think I can remember what it felt like."

Aravis hesitated for a moment, then slowly held out her hand. Cari took it with as much gentleness as possibly, then gingerly felt up and down the affected joint. She closed her eyes as she did so, the better to recall how Cor's broken wrist had felt and tell if Aravis's seemed the same. After several tense moments, she finally let the hand down and shook her head, sighing with relief.

"It doesn't feel broken, Aravis," she said, "but I can't know for sure. I'll bind it for you, and you should keep it as still as you can."

_I know that,_ Aravis looked as if she might answer, but she merely nodded and then glanced toward Corin, who had in the meantime crawled over to Queen Lucy's side and was now carefully undoing one of the twins' overshirts from the injured girl's arm. After wringing it out, he propelled herself back over and held it out to Cari.

"We can't use that – " began Cor, but his brother cut him off.

"We'll only use part of it," he said, and, taking hold of one end of the shirt, held out the other end to Cor. "Come on, Cor. You were just telling me the other day you didn't like this shirt to begin with."

Cor snorted at his twin. "As if you didn't rip enough of your own shirts, anyway."

The overshirt was soon torn in two, and Cari set about binding Aravis's wrist while the twins re-affixed what remained to Queen Lucy's arm. As Cari maneuvered the wet cloth, she looked straight into Aravis's eyes for any sign of severe pain. However, the younger girl looked steadfastly back at her. _Thank heavens for that. I know she's hurting, but at least she doesn't look to be in unbearable pain or shock. The wrist still might be broken, though. _She shivered as another bout of pain wracked her head. _Why can't this horrid rain just stop so we can make our way up and off this cliff and get Aravis and Queen Lucy both to a healer?_

When they returned, both twins looked worried; Cor asked Aravis earnestly if she was all right. After she shortly answered that she was, he said nothing in reply, and neither did anybody else. Instead, they all huddled around Queen Lucy in silence, jumping every so often at a particularly loud thunderclap, or at the rush of a mudslide only a few feet away. When not checking the injured queen's pulse and breathing, Cari leaned backward against the cliff face, her eyes closed in an effort to lessen the heated pains pounding through her head. _It must be well after we said we'd be back,_ she thought. _Surely Father and the others have noticed by now that something must have happened to us. Surely they will have left the castle and gone looking for us._

_But what if they have? They'll probably be looking in the wrong place. They knew we were planning to take Queen Lucy's hiking path both down to the beach and back, so that's where they'll look. They certainly won't look here; after all, Queen Lucy knows the dangers of this area, and they have no way of knowing she's knocked out, so they'll assume she would have kept us well out of range of the mud cliffs. After all, she couldn't have known this cloudburst was coming. Even then, we could have gotten safely out of the way if I hadn't been a clumsy oaf and set her to breaking her ankle. _Sighing heavily, she slowly craned her neck upward toward the cooling rains.

"Cari!" Cor's exclamation, repeated for the second or third time, finally brought her out of her reverie. She angled her head downward as quickly as she could to meet her brother's worried eyes.

"I said, do you think we should try and climb upwards?" he asked. "The tide's rising awfully fast."

Cari crawled to the edge of the rock shelf and looked down. Sure enough, the water, intermixed with the mud, had already risen well above the narrow ledge onto which they had first climbed, and to within a few feet of their current location. _Oh, no. Maybe we should climb higher. There must be a way, even with Cor's injured wrist – perhaps I could take his place in supporting Queen Lucy – but then, what if we reach another ledge and the water climbs higher? Do we just keep hoping that we can find enough handholds to climb our way out of danger before we tire or somebody sustains another injury?_

Finally, she craned her neck upward. _I might have tried that before, of course – for instance, when we first got here. Always look for a way out, Cari. _Eventually, with the aid of a lightning flash or two, she made out the silhouette of what looked like a long, broad ledge at least thirty or forty feet above them. _And I thought climbing a dozen feet was bad._

Eventually, she lowered her eyes back to Cor's. "We'd have to find a scalable way up," was all she said.

A loud whoop from Corin cut off his brother's reply. "Cor, look over here! Aravis, Cari – it's a rope!"

Even before Cari had made her way over to where her brother was standing, she remembered her conversation with Queen Lucy at the target ranges. _"He had a rope made especially long, just so he could anchor himself from the tall rock growing along the top of the cliff there – not that he always remembers to untie it and bring it with him after he's done using it,"_ the queen had said of King Edmund's favorite climbing route in the hollow in which they were nestled, and Cari slapped herself inwardly for forgetting about it. _Thank heavens Corin's eyes are sharper than my mor – memory,_ she thought, wiping more rain out of her eyes.

"It looks like it's hanging from somewhere above that ledge up there, so we should be able to get up just fine," Corin was saying.

"It's anchored from a rock at the top of the cliff," Cari put in, and three puzzled pairs of eyes turned to her. "Queen Lucy told me – a few days ago, I mean," she added. "I'm sorry, but I forgot until now."

Corin shrugged off her apology, however. "It's fine, Cari," he said. "We found it, anyway." He tugged hard on the rope several times before hoisting all of his weight onto it and hanging several inches above the ground, wiggling vigorously as he did so.

"Feels strong enough," he finally declared after dropping back down. He craned his neck upward to peer at the ledge again. "Right, I should be able to get up there in not too long." He felt along the cliff face for a strong handhold.

"Corin – " Cari began, but trailed off. _After all, we should begin leaving this ledge as quickly as we can, especially at the rate this water's rising – oh! _ She shut her eyes tightly and clapped her hands over her ears as another load of mud went rushing down the cliff perhaps three feet beside her.

"Or – all right," she finally managed, turning her face upward again to cool the surge of heat that had just rushed through her cheeks.

"I'll be fine, Cari, don't worry so much," she barely heard Corin say over the pounding rain. She slowly lowered her head in time to see him half-smile at Aravis and Cor for a moment before he seized the rope and began to make his way up the cliff.

Pushing aside her head's pangs of protest, Cari craned her neck upward again to watch her brother's journey. It proved agonizingly slow, as that particular stretch of cliff had fewer handholds Corin felt comfortable using in the pounding rain. For seconds at a stretch Cari could not see him at all, as it was now pitch black out and her eyes refused to squint for very long before her head felt like splitting open. Only when the lightning flashed could she gauge his progress, and then the sudden bursts of light affected her worse than the squinting, so that she never truly laid eyes on him for more than two or three seconds at once. Eventually she began feeling dizzy and was forced to lower her head and take several deep breaths before turning her eyes back upward. After a few such cycles, she kept her face upturned for a bit too long and nearly lost her balance; Cor caught her only just in time.

"You all right, Cari?" he yelled above the rain; when Cari finally trusted herself long enough to open her eyes, she saw the acute worry in his. Nevertheless, she forced out a very short nod.

"I'm fine, Cor," she answered, and, taking another breath, slowly craned her neck upward again, just in time to see Corin slip off his handhold altogether; only the rope, which he clung to as he swung through the air, saved him from destruction. Beside her, Cari heard Cor and Aravis gasp in concert with her, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Aravis clap her uninjured hand over her mouth.

Fortunately, Corin managed to stabilize himself quickly enough, and a few minutes later they heard him yelling from the upper ledge. He had to repeat himself a few times due to the distance, the rain, and a few inopportune crashes of thunder, but Cari soon realized that he wanted them to tie Queen Lucy securely to the rope so that he could pull her up to safety.

"No, Corin!" she yelled, at the exact same time as Aravis. The two girls looked at each other for a moment before Aravis gestured for Cari to continue. The older girl immediately turned to Cor.

"Cor, he should have you with him to – " she began, but he was nodding before she had gotten five words out of her mouth.

"Pull Queen Lucy up. I know," he finished for her, and stepped over to grab the rope. As he knotted it securely around his waist, Cari placed a hand on his arm.

"Please be careful, Cor," was all she could manage, but her brother's eyes gave her all the answer she needed.

"Be careful," Aravis echoed from beside her, and the left corner of her brother's mouth quirked upward.

"I'll be fine," he said, then turned to grope for his first foothold.

Cor's going was even slower than his brother's. Cari had anticipated this, since Corin was the better climber of the two, but it did not make her hand brush up to rub her earlobe any less, nor did it ease the spasms in her head and neck, which she struggled to push upward as far as she could. As often as she could remember to, she breathed deeply in and out while massaging the back of her neck in an attempt to ease the pain and dizziness. Several times, however, she was forced to lower her head to avoid losing her balance, and during one of these spells she caught Queen Lucy moving out of the corner of her eye.

"Queen Lucy!" she exclaimed, flying to the younger girl's side. The latter groaned and tried to move her legs, but did not open her eyes.

Cari hastily reached out to steady the queen's injured ankle. "No, Queen Lucy, don't move it," she said, and shook the girl's shoulder as gently as she could. "Queen Lucy, can you hear me?"

But whether the other girl could hear her she never found out, for just at that moment Aravis let out a terrific scream, blended with a faint yell from Cor. Cari whirled around and stood so quickly that the resulting rush to her head very nearly made her collapse. As soon as she could, she opened her eyes and peered upward. A flash of lightning just then revealed Cor dangling halfway off the cliff, his left hand and foot precariously balanced on two unseen handholds even as his right hand and foot swung in midair. Cari froze as her brother's free hand and leg clawed furiously for a hold along the rock for what seemed hours before, several flashes later, she saw him gripping the cliff with all four limbs. The next time the sky lit up, he had fully secured his hold and gained another foot toward his brother. It was only then that Cari's lungs finally released the gasp onto which they had been holding, and Aravis did the same beside her.

"He lost his hold," she explained, once she had gotten her breath. "He was trying to get his hand up, and he lost it and slipped. Thank Aslan he had the rope tied around him, or else he – " She choked over the last few words, and it took half a minute for her to regain her composure. "As it was, he swung so far through the air, I didn't know if the rope would hold."

Cari closed her eyes and let out another long breath. "At least he got it back," she replied, at the exact same time another rush of mud crashed madly down the cliff a few feet away. When Aravis had recovered, she asked Cari to repeat herself. Cari merely shook her head, but as she opened her mouth to tell Aravis not to bother, she remembered Queen Lucy. Whirling, she swept back over to the injured girl, leaving a confused Aravis in her wake.

However, the young queen had lapsed back into unconsciousness, and Cari's attempts to rouse her proved fruitless. After she had felt the girl's neck to ensure she was still breathing normally, she turned back to Aravis, who, though still watching Cor, had retreated a couple of steps toward her.

"She's fine," she said, seeing the questioning look on Aravis's face. "She was moving and groaning earlier, so I thought she might be awake, but she isn't."

"Oh." The younger girl nodded. "She is still breathing well, though?"

Cari nodded back, wincing at the pang in her neck. "Yes." She carefully shifted her head back upward to see her brother, who was – _gliding? What on earth?_ Ignoring her head's protests, she tilted it as far upward as she still could, only to see Corin leaning off the end of the ledge, pulling hard on the rope to help his brother up. She dimly heard Cor yelling at his twin to save his strength, but it was of no use; within minutes, Corin had hauled him to within two feet of the ledge, close enough for him to scramble up on his own steam. For the next couple of minutes the twins conferred, until finally the two girls heard a faint call of "Ready!" from Corin.

"All right," Aravis yelled back, and the two girls at once set to binding Queen Lucy as securely as they could. Cari, who could still remember most of the knots she had tied while mending Arsheesh's fishing nets and everybody's clothes in Calormen, did much of the work, directing Aravis to tie the simplest knots due to her injury. The younger girl said little, and within the space of ten minutes they had fashioned a secure sling using the rope and the twins' overshirts, which they had had to tear into strips. It took them nearly as long to heft the injured queen into their creation to their satisfaction, but at last they secured her. Cari tugged hard on the rope to ensure its strength, then jumped back, startled, when she felt it yanked upward.

"Not yet, Corin!" Aravis yelled over her head, and the rope immediately stilled.

"Thanks, At – Aravis," Cari managed before turning to push Queen Lucy gently to the side. The rope still held, and finally she turned to the younger girl and nodded.

"All right!" Aravis called, and the queen began inching upward. Soon she was over their heads, and Cari once again tilted her neck upward. After less than a minute, however, the dizziness overwhelmed her, and she was forced to lower it. Cupping both hands, she held them out to gather a few raindrops, which she immediately splashed on her burning face and the back of her neck, which was still angled downward. She let out a deep breath, preparing to tilt her head back up, but was stopped cold by the sight that greeted her as she rubbed her neck one more time.

The silt-ridden tide had risen to within two feet of the girls' ledge and was now battering it in an unending succession of filthy waves. The rain, which had only worsened since Corin and Cor had begun their upward journeys, was beating on them furiously, and even as Cari gaped in horror, she heard a loud rush nearby. A torrent of mud added to the raging waters perhaps twenty feet in front of her at the very same time a series of loud splashes behind her caused her to turn just in time to witness another surge of mud only a few feet away hitting the water, like dirty water being emptied out of a washbasin into a raging stream. The resulting splash flung droplets of shimmering, sickly brown up onto Cari's legs, and the piercing cold sensation finally loosed her voice.

"Cor! Corin! Cor!" she shrieked, whirling to face the cliff again and tilting her face as far upward as she dared. "Hurry up! The water's coming! _Hurry_!"

A flash of lightning a split second later revealed Queen Lucy suspended perhaps ten feet below the ledge, where both twins were tugging furiously on the rope. The thunder that followed drowned out any reply, as did Aravis's startled yell a few moments later as she saw the heights to which the tide had risen. However, Cari soon heard Cor's voice hollering faintly above her. Unable to hear his exact words, she yelled again. This time, Aravis heard what Cari's buzzing ears could not.

"She's almost up," she said, and the next flash of lightning proved her right; the queen had risen by a few feet. Not five minutes later, both girls watched as the twins heaved her over the edge and furiously began untying her. Dizzy again, Cari lowered her head, only to see the muddy waves lapping at the lip of the ledge upon which she and Aravis were standing.

_No, no. Oh, no. It can't possibly have risen this fast,_ she thought, but blinking and rubbing her eyes produced no change. _Oh, no – no, no, no, no! We need to get out of here now!_

A half-gasped yelp of horror broke her train of thought, and she turned to see Aravis standing next to her, eyes wide as she gazed transfixed at the rising waves. The two girls exchanged a long, wordless look before forcing their eyes away from the water and back up toward the ledge above them.

"Cor! Corin!" screamed Aravis, cupping her hands around her mouth as she voiced their silent consensus. "The water's too high! We're coming up together!"

"What?" Cor's answering yell echoed off the waves, which had now crept up onto the ledge and begun puddling around the two girls' feet.

What with the roars of thunder and mudslides alike, it took Aravis a couple more tries, but eventually both boys signaled their assent. Through the flashes of lightning, Cari could see them frantically gesticulating to each other as they struggled to undo the knots she and Aravis had tied so carefully. After what seemed at least an hour, and with the water now splashing near the girls' knees, they heard an indistinct yell from Corin, followed by a _plop_ a foot or so in front of Aravis. The next burst of lightning illuminated the rope dangling within her reach.

Quickly, Cari measured out the length it would take to fasten the rope around both girls' waists. Luckily, a good few feet of it floated out past the point where it hit the water, but that length rapidly disappeared as Cari wrapped it twice around Aravis. Seeing that they had barely any left to tie around Cari, Aravis motioned for her to unwrap one length from around her own waist. Cari opened her mouth to protest, but the look in the younger girl's eyes, coupled with a sharp pang at the back of her neck, made her think better of it, and she did as the younger girl wished. Even then there was not enough rope, and she was forced to untie herself and move the rope so that there was barely a foot of it separating her from Aravis before fastening the last knot securely.

"We're ready!" Aravis called up to the twins, and a few seconds later Cari both felt and saw the younger girl being tugged a few inches above the ground. As that was now underwater, she looked for a few seconds almost like a mermaid suspended mid-leap before another strong pull lifted her up until the water only reached her knees, pushing Cari into the position she had just vacated. There was a long pause, and both girls craned their necks upward to see the twins gesturing to each other again; apparently they had had a disagreement over how best to handle the rope.

_I suppose I would rather they take the time now than get it wrong and risk dropping us twenty feet up,_ thought Cari, although she kept a worried eye on the rising water. However, it took only a few moments more for the boys to begin pulling again, and before long Aravis was completely free of the water, which now barely touched Cari's toes.

Just then, an exceptionally loud crack of thunder caused both girls to jump at once. Thinking she had felt an odd give in the rope, Cari leaned as far up as she dared to look, and found both herself and Aravis staring in horror at a section perhaps two feet above the younger girl's head, where a small section of the rope had frayed and broken off. Neither girl had time to say a word, however, before another tug heaved them farther up, causing the area around the severed strand to strain noticeably. Aravis noticed it too; despite the rain, there was no mistaking the tears that were gathering in her eyes as she stared wide-mouthed at Cari.

"Cor! Corin! STOP!" Cari screamed as loudly as she could, and the rope stopped moving. _Right. At least now I can think. That's no help, though, as long as Aravis and I can't fix the rope – and we can't. The break's not so far above her head, though, that she can't grab it and hold on while the boys are pulling us up._

Even Cari's thoughts, however, failed her for a few moments that caused every splash and crash and thunder around her to cease as she stared wordlessly at the fraying rope, her heart leaping into her throat. Rather than beat out of control or cause her head to throb unbearably, though, it suddenly settled back down, leaving only a desperate resolution in its wake. _There's no way Aravis can hold up both herself and me, especially not with one bad hand. The only way to avoid both of us falling is to make sure she's only holding herself up. She's strong enough to take it from there._

But Cari's hands froze in place, refusing just yet to reach over and undo the knots anchoring her to safety. She closed her eyes for a long moment, relishing the cold drops of rain pounding on her heat-reddened face and the sound of the waves lapping up against the face of the cliff. That same sound, however, reminded her of Aravis's plight, and she slowly opened her eyes. Even the raindrops seemed suspended in front of her for the next few seconds before she snapped out of her reverie and turned to address Aravis.

"It'll be all right, Aravis," she said, her voice surprisingly steady. "Once I'm free, just make sure you grab up above the break and hold on. The boys should get you up fairly quickly. I'm sure it can't take too long before help gets to you, since they're bound to have missed us back at the castle already." She offered the younger girl a faint smile before looking downward to concentrate on her fingers, which she now forced to the delicate task of untying the knot that held the rope around her waist.

"No, Cari!" Aravis's shriek, though she had anticipated it, still startled her enough to make her lose her concentration and turn back to face the horrified younger girl. "Cari, _no_! Why would you – no! Stop it! Cor and Corin can get us both up there!"

Her eyes tearing, Cari shook her head. "You know they can't, Aravis; the rope's too weak. Without me to weigh you down, you can keep your grip up while they pull you."

"No!" Aravis's face was so contorted that Cari would have been frightened by it in any other circumstances. "Cari, I can hold us both up! Don't do it!"

But Cari only shook her head again. "Not with your hand hurt, Aravis." Just then, another peal of thunder startled the younger girl, causing her to jump and widen the fraying in the rope. "You see? That rope won't last thirty feet up with you and me both. But it can last thirty feet up with you." She shook her head violently as Aravis opened her mouth once more, shutting her eyes hard to absorb the resulting pain. Once she was able to look the younger girl in the eyes again, she had steeled her own so that Aravis shut her mouth again.

"Aravis," Cari told her, raising her voice above the rain, "tell Cor and Corin – " She stopped then and shook her head before continuing. "Tell them it isn't their fault. Nor is it yours," she added hastily. "And don't let Queen Lucy think it's hers, either. And don't let Father get too upset. Just tell him – and Corin – that I'm glad I got to come here and meet them. And – " _Stop it, Cari. The water's rising, the rope's fraying, and you're not helping matters._ Swallowing her next words, she reached down to continue undoing the knot.

Cari did not get far, however. Within seconds, she felt a sharp smack on her right arm, and then on her left; Aravis had reached down as far as she could, heedless of the stress on the rope, to stop the older girl. Cari, however, only smacked her back.

"Aravis! _Aravis!_" she yelled, vainly attempting to get the younger girl to listen to her. Seeing that this was of no help, she reached up, grabbed Aravis's right arm, and dealt a blow squarely to the middle of the injured wrist. This immediately caused her to stop and wince as she cradled the bruised hand with the good one, but the broken look she gave Cari as she did so nearly undid the older girl's resolve. It was only after several seconds that she blinked furiously, bit her lip, and returned to her task. When Aravis reached down, this time with only her left hand, to stop her again, she refused to look upward, instead holding the younger girl's hand firmly away from her with one hand as she frantically worked the rope with the other. Even the twins' startled yells, as they finally realized what was going on beneath them, failed to make her look upward, as she willed all of her energy into her right hand. Undoing the knot, however, was not as easy as she had hoped; she had, after all, tied it tightly herself, and Aravis was complicating matters by screaming and swinging wildly above in her attempts to frustrate Cari's efforts. She even reached down with her bad hand again, causing Cari to reach out and give it a twist that was firm enough to cause the younger girl to yelp in pain, but not so firm, she hoped, as to cause it any real damage. Seeing the hand go limp in front of her, she looked upward for a moment, only to see the tears streaming down Aravis's cheeks. It took all she had to bite her lip and turn back to her labors.

At last, however, Cari felt the small give that signaled the weakening of the knot. She wiggled it a bit further, and the hole between the strands widened. _Right. Finally._ Letting go of Aravis's hand at last, she looked straight into the younger girl's eyes, which had taken on an eerily mottled and swollen appearance in the light of the flashes from the sky.

The resulting lump that sprang up in Cari's throat nearly undid her, but she forced herself to swallow it down and smile faintly at Aravis.

"And tell yourself, Aravis," she said, "that I am glad to – to have had you as my sister."

She swallowed a few drops of rain while saying it, which produced a tremendous sneeze that caused her to snatch both hands away from the rope for a moment. Aravis and both twins took the opportunity to scream their protests at her, but Cari was ready. Her left hand shot out once again to hold Aravis off.

"Remember what I told you," she said, and pulled the rope free of the knot. As she felt it give way, she lost her balance and reached up out of instinct, managing to grab the very end of the rope as she did so.

"Pull her up, Corin!" she shouted, and a moment later, "Pull her up, Cor!" Blinking against the dizzying pain assaulting her head, she turned to smile at Aravis one more time before letting go and plunging into the water.

The ocean's chilly temperatures eased Cari's fever at once, and the pain in her head eased during her first few moments underwater. She had barely had time to break the surface and draw breath, however, before she was overwhelmed by a large wave that filled her mouth and nose and made her claw her way back upward, spluttering. She had not yet finished getting her breath back when she was suddenly slammed against a hard surface, managing only at the very last moment to tilt her head back and avoid smashing it against the unforgiving cliff. Stunned, she reached out blindly to steel herself against the next wave, which very nearly overwhelmed her. When she finally got her eyes open, she saw a series of ripples, each heightening by two feet or more as it swept toward her.

Cari, however, had not grown up by the sea for nothing. Instinctively, she gulped in a breath and bobbed underwater as each wave washed in, keeping one hand out to maintain space between her body and the cliff. After the surge had died down, she popped back up to take another breath.

This strategy worked for several minutes, but Cari grew increasingly disoriented after each trip below the waves as the pain and dizziness returned from before, along with strange echoes off of the water that might or might not have been yells from her siblings, and she felt her energy waning quickly. After one particularly vicious wave very nearly flung her back against the cliff, she knew it was only a matter of time before another succeeded where that one had failed, and she might not have the strength to protect her head. _And even if I do,_ she thought, forcing herself to gulp another desperate breath, _I might be swept off to the side and straight into a mudslide, and that would be the end of it._ Grimly, she sank beneath the surface once again; the oncoming wave proved stronger than she had thought and flung her straight in and downward. As Cari ducked to protect her head, she felt a searing pain pierce her upper back, then a scraping sensation as her body rose upward. As she reached out blindly, her hand encountered a sharp outcropping that made her snatch it away and feel for a smoother surface.

_Oh, that's it,_ she realized, once she had clawed her way above the water. _I must have scraped my back on a rock. Well, at least it matches my hand now._

For what reason she did not understand, but the thought seemed amusing to Cari and caused her to snort out a laugh. She inhaled a good bit of water as she did so, and missed getting a full breath into her lungs before the next wave flooded over her. By the time she reached the surface again, her lungs had nearly given way, and she was gasping for dear life. The very next wave caught her still trying to get her wits about her, and she remained underwater for so long that when she finally broke the surface, she was dizzier and more disoriented than ever.

_I suppose I haven't long now, _she thought. _Oh, but how I wish I had had more time with Father – and Corin – and Aravis – and Cor – and everybody else, but mostly with them. _As the next wave swept in, she shut her eyes tightly, but even that could not keep them from registering a particularly bright burst of lightning over the water. Its golden glow reminded her of the cat she had seen leaping over the waves earlier, which in turn sparked her memory of the long-ago night when she had watched, with horrified fascination, the great golden Lion pacing toward the raft she shared with her baby brother and the dead knight.

_Please keep him safe, Aslan, if You want to listen as everyone says you do,_ she thought, shutting her eyes against the lightning and reaching out to stabilize herself along the face of the cliff. _Please bring them all safely back to Cair Paravel. And please don't let any of them stay upset or grieving over this for too long. And very much please don't let any of them think it's their fault, especially Aravis, because otherwise I know she will. I promise I shall thank You very much when – well, if I ever see You again. Oh, I wonder if I shall go to where You live now; I very much doubt –_

Another wave overwhelmed her then, and she barely managed to get her head above the water at all this time. _Lovely,_ she thought after a few hard gasps. _I escaped drowning once and lived practically my whole life by the water, and now I shall drown for real. Master Dorian would say it is a truly ironic case._

She began to laugh again, and the more she thought about it, the funnier it became. She was still laughing when the next wave spun her around and slammed her full force against the face of the cliff.

**AUTHOR'S NOTE, PART 2: Congratulations on making it through the two novels! If you feel so inclined (and if you have any energy left), please feel free to leave me a review or a PM. I won't bite, I promise.**


	36. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

Cari peered into the darkness ahead of her, but she could see nothing. She supposed it would not have been much use if she could, since her stomach kept pitching backward and forward with the rest of her body. Every forward motion produced a dull, heavy pain against her ribs. Gradually, the pain increased, and before long she opened her mouth to cry out against it. This, however, was of no use either, for no sound came out. She tried again, but with the same result, and now her head began throbbing as well. Desperate to release some of the pent-up pain, she opened her mouth yet again, but she breathed in too sharply, producing a pang in her right lung that pushed her over the edge and into oblivion.

The flickering sensation in front of her eyelids awoke her. She opened them slowly to see the same glistening river of intertwined colors she had beheld during her last two illnesses. She thought she might be closer to them this time, but her eyes were too entranced by the undulations of the colors to pay much real attention to distance. Even as she realized how very warm she felt, her eyelids became suddenly heavy, and all was darkness once again.

Cari's eyes opened to the many-hued river twice more. The second time, she realized that she was indeed much closer to it, so close she could see that the river was not actually a river at all.

Sheets upon sheets of flames in every shade of color she could imagine, as well as thousands more she had not, leaped far above her head. Sparks of purple and emerald and pale gold shot out and snapped against the ground not a yard away from her. Terrified, Cari tried to turn and flee, but her feet stayed rooted to the ground. After a minute or two of frantic attempts to pull them free, she realized that the sparks were not coming any closer, and calmed down enough to realize how cold the ground was in the face of the fire's roaring heat. As she bent her head to see why, a ball of dark gold shot out from the fire, startling her. She ducked and covered her head with both arms, but felt nothing. Cautiously, she peered upward to find that the new arrival was standing stock still and staring straight at her with its bright green eyes.

_It can't possibly be,_ she thought. As if it sensed her thoughts, the cat gave her a very pointed blink. Cari's eyes widened for a moment until she realized the animal was purring. It blinked again and stretched out its head toward her, an expression very much like a smile on its face, and Cari rubbed her fingers against her sweat-laced palm for several moments, unsure of whether she should reach out and touch the animal. Slowly, her fist unclenched and, almost of its own accord, began to move toward the cat until, still uncertain, she stopped it. The cat blinked again and gave her a soft _meow_ that sounded almost melancholy, then began purring again as if to reassure her. Cari bit her lip and once again ran her fingers over her palm. Seconds stretched into minutes, and still the cat waited, its expression at once hopeful and serene, until suddenly Cari realized how very warm she felt, and how very, very cold the ground was. She was about to look down again when the colors began to fade, and so did the cat. The last thing she could remember seeing before everything turned to darkness again was its pair of luminous green eyes staring at her patiently.

Cari awoke later in complete darkness, but what her eyes lacked for sight, her nerves compensated for generously. Her head and neck throbbed; her ribs ached dully on her left side and screamed low on her right; and she felt as though a line of fire were cutting her left palm in half and slashing across her back all at once. Its heat had spread throughout the rest of her body, causing the few nerves not attached to the injured parts to protest roundly. After several moments, she realized they had found a voice, for the dry, harsh groan nearby that was still grating on her ears had come from her.

As if in response, two or three voices began swirling above her head in a matter of seconds. She thought they were female, but to whom they belonged she could not tell. She did, however, sense something or someone nearby lifting a weight she had not known was covering her, then another weight off of her right arm. Her skin immediately heated further, causing her to moan again, but just a few moments later she felt the weight return, this time in the form of something deliciously wet and cool. The same thing happened in short order to the rest of her limbs, as well as her stomach, chest, neck, cheeks, and forehead. She had just begun to wonder whether the tide had washed her onto a ledge along the cliff, then receded a bit before the waves had risen again, when she sank back into darkness.

Cari woke several more times after that. Each time she felt the pains and fever return, although with differing degrees of severity. Nearly every time, she felt the latter being assuaged by the comforting coolness she had sensed earlier, and on occasion she found herself alert enough to understand a voice close by instructing her to drink from a flask being lifted to her lips. Depending on when she awoke, it was either a light, lilting female voice or a gravelly but very soothing male one, although no matter which voice it was, its owner was always asking how she felt and where she hurt the most. She usually managed to moan an answer, although she slurred her words so much that she was not entirely sure her questioner understood it.

Cari always sank back into darkness within a matter of minutes, but the swirling inferno never returned. Once, though, she felt as though she were floating, and the sound of rushing waves around her seemed to confirm it. Suddenly, one of them caught her and spun her toward what she somehow knew was a wall of rocks, even though she could not see it. She tried with all her might to scream, but no sound came out, even when she felt her body speeding upward at an alarming rate toward a brilliant pool of light. Then the motion stopped, and her eyelids fluttered open, revealing a face it took her several seconds to recognize as that of Queen Susan. The older girl did not notice her, however, and drifted in and out of focus, along with her voice, which was joined by the other two to which Cari had by now become accustomed, and one other that might have been King Edmund. Quickly, however, her eyelids tired and closed again, although she could still hear the voices. A loud noise nearby jolted her eyes open again, and it was then that she heard Queen Susan calling out her name in delight. Seeing the beaming faces of both the queen and King Edmund, she smiled as best she could, until two unfamiliar faces appeared in her peripheral vision, one belonging to a kindly-looking old man and one to a lovely woman perhaps ten years older than herself. The woman asked her if she could hear them, and Cari nodded, whereupon the woman issued a few pointed directives that cleared the two monarchs and the man out of Cari's line of vision. The woman disappeared too, but quickly returned, her face close enough this time that Cari could make out her green eyes and long, dark hair, which flowed down over her left shoulder as she bent and put her arm around Cari's shoulders to help her sit up. She held a vessel of some sort to the girl's lips, and despite the protesting throbs from her head and back, not to mention the searing pain tearing across her left hand, she willingly drank it. This time she was alert enough to recognize the herbs in the liquid as the same that had flavored the water she had been given by the healers in Archenland during her previous two bouts of illness.

"Does your hand still hurt, Princess?" asked the woman, and Cari recognized the lilting voice from before at once. She tried to nod, but her effort immediately produced more throbbing, so she managed to utter a weak affirmation.

The woman nodded. "And your back? Does it feel any worse than before?"

It took several moments for Cari to understand the words and rack her hazy memory, but she did recall her back had very nearly bursting the last time she had drunk – or perhaps the time or two before last – at being raised to an even lesser angle at which it was now tilted, so she finally replied in the negative.

"Can you move your arms for me, Princess?" the woman asked her, but Cari felt herself sinking rapidly again, and barely mustered the strength to lift her right arm a few inches before her eyes shut again. She thought she heard Queen Susan talking at a distance as darkness overwhelmed her once more.

Some time later, Cari found herself floating on the raft again and gazing out at the waves of the Eastern Sea. Sure enough, within a few moments the Lion was standing in front of her, His appearance producing a gasp of surprise from her even though she had expected it. As she stared with all the open-mouthed shock and horror she had felt the first time she had seen Him, one spot on His forehead just above His right eye began to glow particularly brightly. It drew her gaze away from His great golden-brown eyes, which were shining with grave concern and something undefinable that could almost be called pleading. Within seconds, they had faded, along with everything else but the odd point of light. She turned her head a bit more until a sharp twinge stopped her and caused her to blink. It was then that she realized she had not actually opened her eyes since the wave had overwhelmed her and smashed her against the cliff. Just seconds later, she realized that the strange glow on the Lion's forehead had materialized into the flame of a lamp flickering on a table beside the bed in which she was lying.

Blinking again, Cari slowly looked around her, but she could see very little of the rest of her surroundings, which were completely dark except for the table on which the lamp sat and a few strands of a thick, gold-and-crimson rug illuminated by stray beams of moonlight peeping around the curtains on the other side of the room. Peering more closely at the table, she saw that the corner pieces were carved with the face of the same Lion she had seen mere minutes before.

_I must still be in Narnia, then, _she thought after a moment. _Given the rug, perhaps I am even in Cair Paravel, although I don't recognize this room – what I can see of it at any rate. Perhaps if I picked up the lamp…_

The memory of the swirling flames made Cari hesitate for several minutes, but eventually her curiosity made the idea too good to pass up, and in short order she had reached her right hand out far enough to touch the lamp. Just then she felt something fall off her arm, and she glanced downward just in time to see a piece of white woven cloth hit the floor. She started, and her elbow knocked into the lamp, causing it to skitter to the very edge of the table; only a last-ditch backward slap kept it from crashing to the floor.

Just as Cari had managed to right the lamp, a noise from the shadows beyond the table caused her to jump again. She could just make out the silhouette of an arm reaching out toward her, and quickly jumped backward as fast as she could, scattering a few more white cloths in the process and producing a sharp stab of pain through her right side. A startled combination of yelp and gasp left her mouth at the exact same moment that a squeal of "Cari!", accompanied by the light of the lamp, revealed that the arm belonged to Queen Lucy.

"Cari! Thank Aslan, you're awake!" As quickly as she could say it, the younger girl had leaped out of her perch on a nearby chaise and, using the table as leverage, hobbled over and re-seated herself on the edge of the bed. She looked as though she very much wanted to throw her arms around Cari, but restrained herself to putting one hand on her shoulder and holding the back of the other to her forehead. "How are you feeling?"

Cari blinked a few times before she could respond. "All right," she finally managed, although the fright had left her surprisingly drained of energy. "A bit tired is all." She made to lie back a bit, but only managed to re-aggravate the pain in her side. Seeing her struggle, Queen Lucy immediately inched forward and put her arm around Cari's back, gently lowering her down. She fussed a good deal over the older girl's pillows, which brought a wan smile to Cari's face.

"Really, Lucy, I'm fine," she said, then stopped when she realized she had referred to the younger girl by her first name only. This elicited a broad smile in response, though the queen's forehead was still creased with worry.

"It's about time you began calling me that for good now," she said. Her smile faded as she added, "I was far too afraid you wouldn't be around to call me either one or the other, though. You gave us all a horrible fright, Cari."

Cari blinked again, her thoughts scrambling over each other in their hurry to reassemble her last memory before she had blacked out and seen the colors again. She closed her eyes, and flashes of lightning and rain and solid rock rushed through her mind, followed by a long fall and a splash into cold, salty water. As she opened her eyes to meet Lucy's suddenly tear-filled ones, she felt two distinct lumps materialize – one in her throat, and one in the pit of her stomach. _I suppose I must have been unconscious for some time, then, if they were all so worried. Oh, no. I must have caused quite a bit of trouble – oh, no, wait, she said "us." Does that mean –_

"Wait – us?" she said aloud, sitting up as far as she could until her ribs began protesting again. "Does – is Aravis all right, and Cor and Corin? They got off the cliff, too, right?"

Queen Lucy nodded at once. "Oh, yes, they're fine, Cari," she said. The unshed tears in her eyes glistened as she added, "I think they and your father are only the worse for worrying about you than for anything else."

Cari let out a sigh of relief as she sank back down. "Thank heavens," she said, then added hastily, "I mean that they are all right, of course, and not that I have made everyone worry so. I did not mean to cause anybody such a fright, or so much time worrying, or – or a broken ankle," she added, remembering the queen's sharp fall off the cliff. "I know I should have called out to warn you when you said you were coming back up for me, but I dropped just then and got clumsy, and – oh, I should never have come along in the first place, Lucy; I wouldn't have broken your ankle, and I'm sorry."

The young queen raised both of her eyebrows at this. "Oh, for heavens' sake, Cari," she finally said, shaking her head in clear bemusement. "You are the only person I know who would save the lives of four people by very nearly sacrificing her own, then spend a week horribly ill, and then wake up worrying over somebody else's broken ankle." She emitted an odd noise that sounded more like a swallowed sob than a giggle before continuing. "You did _not_ break my ankle; I caused that through my own carelessness. And if you had not come along, we may well have been trapped on the cliffs in any case, and without you to get us out."

Cari shook her head as far as she dared. "I doubt you would have failed to get back in time, had your ankle not been broken," she said. "But even if you had, I am sure you would have been able to get out in any case."

By the look on the younger girl's face, Cari expected her to protest again, but before that could happen, her own mouth opened again. "Oh, I'm sorry, Lucy; I haven't asked how your ankle is feeling, and I should have done."

Lucy shook her head quickly at this. "No, you shouldn't, Cari," she said, "not considering all you have been through. And my ankle is mending beautifully; Master Pennock saw to that. It will be good as new within a matter of weeks." She waved a hand and leaned in a bit closer, the tears glistening more prominently. "In any case, Cari, that is not what's important. You saved my life, and I am – I am very grateful to you." She took a shaky breath before adding with a smile, "And a broken ankle is a small price to pay, as far as I am concerned." She reached forward then and hugged Cari, who reciprocated as far as her ribs would allow.

After a few moments, the queen pulled back. Seeing Cari wince, she immediately dropped her arms. "Oh, Cari, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt your ribs any further."

Cari shook her head. "No, that was me moving my arms wrong," she said. She bit her lip then and tilted her head, trying to clear the mist from her memory. "Wait. I remember getting washed up against the cliff, but not anything else. How did I – I mean, how did we all – do you know what happened exactly, and how long it's been? I am afraid I don't even know what day it is."

Lucy smiled then. "We were rescued six days – no, five – oh, no, it's after midnight now, so I suppose it has been six days since then," she answered. "And I don't remember what happened at all, but Cor and Corin and Aravis do, and – oh, bother!" She pushed herself up out of the chair. "I promised them all I'd tell them the minute you woke up and could talk, and I completely forgot." She swept toward a doorway somewhere out of Cari's sight, then turned back for a moment. "I'll be right back with them, Cari; will you be all right here for a few moments, or shall I – oh, blast it!" She clapped both hands to the sides of her head. "I also promised Sir Pennock I would tell him or Lady Tala when you woke up, too." She turned back toward the doorway for a moment before facing Cari once again. "Well, I suppose I shall have to suffer their wrath, as I am going to wake your family first." She flashed Cari a grin before disappearing out of the room.

Cari had barely had time to peer into the darkness to see if she could make out any more than she had before Lucy had awakened when she heard a muffled shriek, followed by several thuds and only slightly quieter exclamations, from what sounded like the next room over. After a few minutes of the commotion, Cari heard the door opening. This time, thanks to the lamps they were carrying, she could clearly make out her father, the twins, and Aravis rushing into the room. Within seconds, the lamps had been deposited on floor and tables alike, and Cari found herself surrounded by an array of anxious faces uttering a chorus of greetings and questions. King Lune, unable to restrain himself, engulfed his daughter in a barely restrained hug, and when he pulled back, his eyes were as full of tears as Lucy's had been. Aravis's face was whiter than Cari had ever seen it, and both twins had dark circles under their eyes.

Cari smiled wanly as silence fell over the room. "I – I'm fine," she said at last, the only and most repeated question she had registered being some variant of, "How are you feeling?" "I'm sorry to have worried everyone so much, though, and – for waking you all at this hour."

As if in response to her words, her mouth opened in a wide yawn, which she barely managed to cover while the protests rang out around her. She smiled again, and more fully.

"We'd rather be talking to you than sleeping, anyway," she registered Cor saying as her ears recovered from the yawn. His expression sobered. "Or not sleeping, rather. I think King Peter and everyone would rather it, too. We were wearing out the carpet in our rooms. Corin, mainly, but the rest of us too." What little humor he had managed to muster, however, felt flat and brittle, and for once Corin had no reply but a grimace.

"Well, you can tell them that much is my fault for worrying you all so," replied Cari; seeing a fresh round of protests on everybody's faces, she added, "for – well, six days, according to Queen Lucy, is that right?"

Aravis's mouth opened halfway before it shut again as she swallowed. After a few awkward moments, Cor nodded. "Yes, it would be six today," he answered, "as it's early in the morning."

"So we were rescued in the morning, then?" Cari asked.

King Lune shook his head. "It was late in the evening when we found you," he replied, "and – " He paused as Cari yawned again. "Perhaps you would like to wait before hearing the entire story," he finished.

Cari shook her head. "No, Father, unless you would rather not recall it just now. I can stay awake a bit longer, I think."

Before King Lune could reply, however, he was interrupted by the entrance of two figures whom he introduced to his daughter as Sir Pennock and Lady Tala, Cair Paravel's healers-in-chief. Cari, however, needed no introduction; she recognized both healers at once as the strangers she had seen when she had awakened earlier.

"Ah." Sir Pennock bowed in greeting to the royal family. "Our apologies for interrupting, Princess Carisa – Your Majesty – Your Royal Highnesses," he said, nodding to each of them in turn, "but Queen Lucy has informed us you are awake and feeling better than previously."

Cari could do no more than nod at the moment; when Sir Pennock's bow struck her as odd, she had bent her gaze downward and discovered that he was a faun, instead of the old man she had assumed him to be. King Lune, however, shifted a step or two over, and Aravis and the twins followed his lead. "By all means, come in," he said. "Yours is always a welcome presence, my good healers, especially after all you have done for Cari thus far."

Lady Tala, whom Cari's clearer eyesight now recognized as a naiad, bowed in her turn. "And we are happy to have done it, King Lune," she said. "Princess Carisa – " she turned gracefully to face Cari – "how are you feeling at the moment?"

"Fine, thank you," Cari answered automatically. "That is – much better than before," she added, her cheeks coloring a bit. It was then that she realized how warm she felt. The naiad had apparently read her thoughts, for she reached over and gently felt Cari's forehead with the back of her hand.

"Much cooler, as well," she remarked. She then turned toward Sir Pennock, who, anticipating her actions, had produced a basin of water from somewhere among the shadows and handed it to her, along with several white cloths. Setting the basin down and dipping a cloth into the water, she turned back to Cari.

"Would you like a cool cloth?" she asked, and Cari quickly assented, lying back so that the cloth would rest smoothly on her forehead. Having seen to that, Lady Tala and Sir Pennock began asking Cari how her limbs and ribs felt, and how far she could move her arms and legs without feeling pain. Her family drew back a bit to give her room to maneuver, although by the look on King Lune's face, he was having a hard time restraining himself from running to his daughter's side again. Cari gave him a wan smile before turning her attention back to Lady Tala, who was asking if she might feel Cari's ribs. Cari nodded reluctantly before gingerly holding up her right arm. The healer's touch was gentle but firm, and a pang shot through Cari's side. She winced and shied away, and Lady Tala apologized at once.

"It feels less tender than it did before, however," she said. "A good sign that the bones are beginning to heal."

That distracted Cari from her discomfort for a moment. "My bones are beginning to heal?" she repeated blankly.

Lady Tala nodded. "Three of your ribs are broken," she said, "and, given what happened, it is a wonder that the rest survived with only bruises."

"Oh," was the only word Cari could muster. She squinted in the direction of what she guessed to be the opposite wall, trying to pull more recollections from her mind of the night on the cliff. _I suppose they broke when that wave washed me against the cliff. I do remember feeling a tremendous amount of pain there just before I fainted._

"Princess Carisa?" Sir Pennock's gravelly voice, no doubt following Lady Tala's, brought Cari out of her reverie, and she abruptly turned her head to face him. Her neck rewarded her with a twinge, but it paled in comparison to the pains that rushed back into her memory from the night of the storm as she did so.

"Are you suffering any headaches?" the elder healer asked her, and she could not help the small but ironic smile that leaped to her lips.

"Only when I turn my head sharply, Sir Pennock," she answered truthfully.

He nodded, pleased. "And your appetite? Would you like something to eat – bread and spices, perhaps, or an apple?"

Slowly, Cari nodded. "Yes, thank you. And thank you also for caring for me – both of you," she added, nodding to Lady Tala as well.

The two healers were still smiling and assuring her that they were only happy that she was on the mend, when a soft knock on the door was followed by the entrance of a candle attached to the arm of Queen Lucy, who was bearing a tray laden with soup, bread, fruit, and a steaming cup of tea.

"I thought you might be hungry, Cari," she said as she set the tray on the table next to Cari's bed. Grinning, she added, "And I supposed Sir Pennock and Lady Tala might encourage you to eat in any case. They can be very persuasive."

Cari smiled back. "Thank you for going to the trouble, Queen – Lucy," she replied. "The tea smells delicious."

"I'm glad you think so," replied the younger girl. "It's a special rosemary blend – one of our healers' better-kept secrets." She grinned at Sir Pennock and Lady Tala, although Cari noticed that her eyes had retained some of the worry she had seen when the younger girl had first regarded her upon her awakening.

"You mean one healer's well-kept secret, Queen Lucy," Lady Tala admonished the queen. Turning to Cari, she added, "Queen Lucy is often too modest to admit that she concocted it herself."

The younger girl waved her hand. "Technicalities," she replied. "I had plenty of help." She held out the steaming mug to Cari, who gripped it as well as she could considering the thick bandage over her left hand.

"Thank you very much," she said and took a sip of the tea, which tasted better than it smelled, if possible.

Lucy smiled and waved her hand again. "It was the least I could do, Cari." She turned to the two healers with a meaningful tilt of her head. "I am sorry; I did not mean to interrupt you."

Both of them, however, shook their heads. "We were just finishing," Lady Tala offered. "In fact, the question about food was our last one." She nodded to Cari as she and Sir Pennock rose. "Would you like anything else, Princess?"

Cari shook her head. "No," she answered. "I am quite content – and quite grateful to you all."

Three smiles returned hers, and within moments the queen and the two healers had departed, leaving Cari alone with her family.

Cari took several bites of soup in silence, as nobody appeared eager to tell her what had happened before she had eaten. In between mouthfuls, she managed to inquire after Aravis's hand and the boys' health, both of which they assured her were just fine. Quiet fell again, and Cari noticed that everybody appeared a bit preoccupied with looking at her as though she might vanish at any second. Her cheeks flushed, and she hastened to finish the piece of bread on which she had been nibbling. After washing down the last morsel with a sip of tea, she took a deep breath and looked her father in the eyes.

"You were saying it has been six days since you rescued us, then, Father?" she asked.

The king shook his head. "Six days, yes, Carisa, but I did very little of the rescuing. Over a dozen of us rode out after you, and as Queen Lucy told us, we all have King Edmund to thank for the rope that you used to climb as high as you did." He cleared his throat before continuing. "And as Aravis told us, we have you to thank for her ability to hold on until your brothers were able to pull her up – as well as for guiding them to the hollow in the first place." He cleared his throat again, and his eyes shone – whether more from pride or from relief, Cari could not tell.

Before she could protest that her siblings had exaggerated her role, though, the king regained his composure. "And we have King Peter to thank for rescuing you," he continued, his voice softening. "It was he who saw you adrift in the water and jumped in after you." He shook his head sharply, as if not yet able to believe what had happened.

"Corin threw him the end of the rope so everyone could fish you both out," put in Cor, causing his brother to flush.

"You were helping with Queen Lucy and Aravis," replied Corin, and for the first time a faint smile crossed his face. It faded as he turned back to Cari. "He said he saw you in a flash of lightning," he went on. "No one else could see you until then." He swallowed and went silent.

Cari reached toward his hand with her own, then hesitated long enough for Cor to pick up where his brother had left off. "He got hold of you," he said, "but he had to swim back against the current with you to get to the rope. Lord Peridan and the others had to keep on throwing it out because the tide kept on pushing it back against the side of the cliff. But he finally got you there and tied you on so you could get hauled up."

Cari's brow wrinkled. "He didn't tie himself on, as well?"

She felt rather than saw Aravis cringe beside her at that question, but the younger girl composed herself, and Cor went on. "No. It made them haul you up faster, and – " He glanced at Aravis, apparently thinking better of whatever he had been about to say. "And so he climbed up as far as he could until they untied you and let the rope back down for him. By then, Father and Queen Susan and everyone else on the top of the cliff had pulled up Aravis and Queen Lucy, and they pulled you up next, and then the rest of us."

"The rest of you?" Cari covered a yawn before continuing. "So everyone who came to our rescue – none of them was injured?" She remembered Queen Lucy telling her she had been sick then, and hastened to continue. "And did any of them take my illness?"

King Lune shook his head. "No, all are in good health. You are the only one who took ill." He paused a few moments before adding, "The cut on your left hand became infected. According to Sir Pennock and Lady Tala, it is not the kind of illness that spreads to other people."

Cari nodded, relieved. "Well, I am glad of that," she said, and yawned again. "But I am very sorry to have caused you all so much worry." She sighed. "Not to mention the inconvenience to our hosts. I shall have to apologize to them properly soon."

Her father leaned over to kiss her forehead. "It was not your fault, Carisa. And, if anything, I should say everyone here considers themselves in your debt for saving Queen Lucy's life. In any case, King Peter and his siblings have been most gracious in their care for us all, and will not resent our presence here until you are well enough to travel."

Cari felt like pointing out for the second time that night that Queen Lucy's life would hardly have been in danger had she not been trying to help the older girl down the cliff, but a tremendous yawn overtook her just then, and by the time it was over, she realized she was far too tired to argue the point. Sensing his daughter's exhaustion, King Lune stood and said he would find Lady Tala and ask her if Cari needed to take another draught of medicine before she slept again. He bent to give her a quick kiss on the cheek and swept out of the room.

For the first few moments, the siblings all glanced at each other, all unwilling to break the silence. Finally, after yet another yawn, Cari cleared her throat and spoke.

"It took all of us to help Queen Lucy the way we did," she said, "and I hope Father and everybody else knows that. I hope no one's told him I saved her all by myself." She managed to raise her eyebrows and the corners of her mouth as she finished speaking, in hopes that the levity would help soften the troubled glint their eyes shared. It did not, but it did break the silence, as all three of her siblings began talking at once.

"As if we would – " began Corin.

"'Course we told them what happened," his twin chimed in.

"That's not the point, Cari," said Aravis, her voice shaking. Cari turned her head just in time to see the younger girl lower her forehead onto her upturned hand, the elbow underneath it resting on the table for support. She quickly composed herself, however, and raised her head to look straight at Cari.

"Everyone knows what happened with Queen Lucy," she continued, "and with me." She blinked hard, and just as quickly her eyes filled with moisture. "Cari, you – I – you could have – if King Peter hadn't – "

"Corin and I would've, of course," piped up Cor, who had clearly noticed the younger girl's voice faltering. "Not that we begrudged him being a hero what with jumping more than thirty feet down into freezing water to save you and all that, even though he insists he's not. Bit like you, Cari, come to think of it." The smile died on his lips, though, as he continued. "Although he didn't worry us all half as much as you did. And don't believe Corin if he won't admit he got worried, either."

That earned him a sharp look from Corin, and for a moment the old spark almost returned. "I don't have a problem admitting to things when they're true," he retorted, but his voice softened as he turned to Cari. "And don't believe Cor if he won't admit he was just as glad as me yesterday, when you woke up and Sir Pennock told us you'd recover."

Cari's brow furrowed for a few moments until she remembered seeing Queen Susan and the two healers when she had awakened previously. _Wait. Yesterday?_

"So he – Sir Pennock – didn't know until yesterday…" Cari's question trailed off as she realized why her siblings looked as though they had lost so much sleep. _No wonder. They spent almost five days thinking I might not survive._

"I'm so sorry," she finally managed, looking at each of her siblings in turn. "I – you know – I never meant to worry you all so much. I'm sorry you and Father had to go through all of what you did on my account." Her eyes lingered on Aravis's until the younger girl let out a sigh, and despite the two stray tears that trickled down her cheeks, she smiled.

"No more than what you put yourself through on my account, Cari," she said. "Well – our account, really." She glanced at Cor and Corin. "And none of us could thank you enough times for it, especially me." She wiped her cheeks, which quickly sprouted two more streams of tears.

"Long as you don't do it again, that is," Cor put in, causing Aravis to laugh. "Otherwise Corin might get cranky and threaten to knock someone down. And then I'd have to knock him down to stop him from doing it."

Corin rolled his eyes. "I'd like to see you try," he answered. "And anyhow, I'm in an awfully generous mood right now. Otherwise I'd have knocked you down already."

In spite of herself, Cari let out a howl of laughter, which was promptly cut short by a pang in her right side. She winced as she instinctively held her arm to her ribs.

"You're all right, Cari?" Aravis asked, and Cari nodded.

"As long as I don't break another rib," she answered dryly.

"And if you do, you can just blame Corin," put in Cor. "He's the one who made you laugh, after all."

Corin's answering glare lacked its usual luster, but his voice was steadier than Cari had heard it yet. "No, she can blame you. You're the one who started what ended with me saying what made her say – I mean, you ended – and she started – " He slapped the air in frustration, and Cor and Aravis barely looked at each other before they burst out laughing, followed in short order by Cari, who this time made sure to hold her ribs throughout.

"The point is, she laughed," Corin said, red-faced, but even he could not help smiling.

Just then there was a knock on the door, and in swept the two healers, accompanied by King Lune and Queen Lucy. All four looked bemused at the sight of Cari, who not only laughing and holding her ribs, but surrounded by her howling siblings.

"I declare, Corin," Queen Lucy finally said, once the four of them had stopped laughing enough to hear her. "King Lune leaves for but a few minutes, and already you have Cari threatening to break more ribs. You are not to be trusted."

Despite the smile on the queen's face, Corin promptly reddened. Cari, who saw enough of the underlying worry in the two monarchs' expressions, took a deep breath to soothe her ribs before she spoke.

"Well, I daresay he can be trusted to make me laugh," she said, "and for as much good as it has done me, I am very grateful."

Corin turned toward her sharply at this, and she had just enough time to wink at him before her mouth opened for a very wide yawn. At this, both healers briskly set to getting Cari additional medicine and water. Once she had had some of both, Sir Pennock escorted Cari's family out of the room while Queen Lucy and Lady Tala checked and changed the bandages on her injuries. Luckily, the two decided that the bindings on her ribs did not need replacing at that time; as far as Cari was concerned, having them feel the area for anomalies and displace her gown to check the bandages was more than uncomfortable enough. Even though it was Queen Lucy who did the inspection, and even though the gown was specially made to unwrap at the side so that Cari's legs and arms remained covered, she could not help shuddering several times; aside from the pain, it brought back memories of a few nights back in Calormen that she wished to forget. Fortunately, the young queen proved as quick as she had been gentle, and the ordeal was soon over.

"I'm sorry, Cari," whispered Lucy as Lady Tala swept over with more water. As she bent to squeeze the older girl's shoulder, the candlelight bent across her face, and Cari realized that the circles under her eyes were nearly as dark as her brothers' had been. "Are you feeling all right to rest, or would you like me to stay with you? Or your family, perhaps?"

Cari yawned again and shook her head. "No, thank you, Lucy," she answered. "I am sure I shall be asleep again in a few minutes, anyway." Just before yet another yawn overtook her, she added, "And thank you – very much."

The younger girl nodded. As Cari closed her eyes and accepted a drink of water from Lady Tala, she heard a faint "No, Cari, thank you," before the door creaked and then closed. She descended into darkness thinking that Lucy's voice sounded every bit as careworn as her face had looked.

The next time Cari awoke, her ribs and hand ached a bit less, and the next time after that she felt well enough to get a bath, although with a great deal of help from Aravis, both of her immensely relieved maidservants, the two Narnian queens, and an odd-looking contraption with one pair of legs, one pair of spoked wheels, two handles, and a cushion on the top, which insulated her aching ribs as she leaned against it to propel herself forward. Lucy had borrowed it from King Edmund's quarters, where it had sat ever since he had broken a rib several years previously during a fencing match with his brother.

"He was lucky they were only using their practice swords," Susan observed as she and Aravis bent to help Cari out of the bed. "He turned the wrong way on a block, and Peter's sword caught him in just the wrong place."

"Not that he ever let Peter forget it, either," said Lucy, beaming as she adjusted the walking aid. "Mind, Peter felt horrible about it, so he helped Edmund every chance he got, but whenever he did it, Edmund would bend down and hold his ribs like they were in terrible pain." Unable to help herself, she began laughing out loud. "Peter actually fell for it the first few times; it was rather funny. Of course, after that it just annoyed him more and more, and finally he started calling Edmund 'Gimp' whenever he asked him for help. The last time Edmund tried it was the day before the harvest festival, and they were getting up from breakfast. Edmund didn't really need the help; he just thought Peter wouldn't refuse him in front of everyone."

"Well, Peter didn't refuse him, exactly," Susan put in as the two girls got Cari settled.

Lucy waved her hand. "Well, of course not _exactly_." She turned back to Cari. "Anyhow, he and Edmund had been going back and forth the whole morning, and Peter was rather out of temper. So he went over to Edmund and said what a shame it was that he was feeling too poorly to join them for the day's hunting and swimming, and after he helped him up, he headed off without him. Of course, Ed immediately got up and ran after him and tried to beat him to the stairs. But he got off balance, and he tripped and fell headlong and knocked them both down right in the middle of the hall." She covered her mouth and bent over laughing; Susan was chuckling along with her sister, as was Aravis. Finally, Susan turned to Cari again.

"Anyway, Edmund re-injured himself," she said. "He didn't re-break his rib, but he did bruise it, and Peter sprained his wrist. So that year, neither of them went on the hunt, and they both had to help with the bread making in the kitchens."

"Which meant Susan and I got to go instead," said Lucy, grinning reminiscently. "It was lovely – not that we let them forget it."

Susan raised her eyebrows. "You mean _you_ didn't let them forget it," she said.

Lucy raised a brow of her own in return. "And who was it who counted the number of antlers on the stag we caught and made such a point of asking Peter how many had been on the one he and Ed caught the year before?"

Susan's face flushed. "I was curious," she said, but this only made Lucy laugh harder.

The following morning, Cari awoke early and exchanged her nightclothes for a day dress for the first time in over a week. Mara helped her dress, and Lady Tala came along to inspect Cari's wounds and change her bandages. After a thorough examination, she seemed very pleased with her patient's condition.

"I can feel your ribs already beginning to knit themselves together," she said. "And even a day or two ago, you couldn't have begun to turn as you just did there. You have healed with remarkable speed, Princess Carisa."

Cari shook her head. "If I have, it is because I have had such excellent care," she replied, "and I am very grateful to you for your part in it."

"Oh, it was but a small one," replied Lady Tala, and bent to gather Cari's old bandages off the bed.

A few minutes later, Mara had just finished arranging Cari's hair when the healer returned and asked if she felt up for visitors.

"The kings and queens, that is," she clarified, seeing the confused look on Cari's face. "They are happy to return if the hour is too early for you."

"Oh, I – oh, no." Cari shook her head. "Of course it is not too early. I should be happy to see them."

A few minutes later, Cari found herself seated on a plush red chair in the small sitting room next door, surrounded by the kings and queens of Narnia, as well as their queries as to her health.

"Very well, thank you," she replied, and added, "And I do mean 'thank you,' for it is thanks to all of you and your generosity that I am even here at all, not to mention mending so nicely."

"No less generosity than you deserve, Cari," protested Susan, and Lucy added, "And it is thanks to you that I am here and mending so nicely, too, Cari."

Cari shook her head. "And it was thanks to me that you were wounded and in danger to begin with," she replied, "so I did no more than I should have in the first place."

"Cari, you know that wasn't your fault," the queen answered at once, but Cari shook her head once again.

"I could have prevented it," she answered, then bit back the rest of what she had been about to say in favor of a tenuous smile. "But I am glad that no further damage was done to you."

King Edmund waved his hand. "Don't worry, Princess Cari. Lucy's done worse damage to herself trying to climb that route, and that was without anyone there to distract her." He grinned and added, "Besides, she has me to thank, since my rope supposedly saved everyone."

Lucy rolled her eyes at her brother, and Cari thought she would have stuck her tongue out at him as well had they been alone in the room. However, King Peter intervened before she could say anything.

"But in this instance," he said, blue eyes glowing with his barely contained mirth, "Lu's more the one to thank, Ed, since she was always the one who had to remind you to wind it back up after you went climbing."

The younger king rolled his eyes at this as Lucy grinned, and Cari thought King Peter would say something else, but he merely glanced over at Susan, who raised her eyebrows ever so slightly. The king then turned to Cari.

"Princess Cari," he said, "we are here to thank you because you saved Lucy's life – no matter what else may have happened during your climb," he added, inclining his head to bring his eyes nearly to a level with her own. "We are all – much more grateful than we could tell you." His voice lowered, and he paused a moment. He lowered his eyes, but not before Cari noticed a sudden sheen of moisture in them and withdrew her gaze. It quickly traveled over his siblings' countenances, all of which bore markedly similar expressions.

It was Lucy who finally broke the silence. "If even Edmund is grateful," she said, "you know you've done well, Cari."

Cari glanced at King Edmund, but he barely raised his eyebrows at this. Cari was suddenly reminded of Corin's ashen face at her bedside when she first awoke.

"We owe you a great debt, Cari, and we cannot ever hope to repay it." Susan's gentle voice drew Cari's gaze to the glint in the older queen's eyes, which lingered on her own for a moment before she turned to give her older brother a meaningful look. His own gaze rested upon Lucy as if he were still unable to believe her safety, and it was only then, with the streaming sunlight illuminating his face from the side, that Cari noticed the shadows under his eyes. He turned to Cari, and they disappeared.

"That much is true," he said, his voice steady again, "but we would like to give you a token to remind you of our gratitude." Seeing her bemused look, he paused for a moment. "Are you familiar with King Fabian of Narnia?"

Cari had to think for a few moments, but eventually she nodded. "He was the first king of Narnia to rule during the reign of Col the First of Archenland, yes?"

King Peter nodded. "Right. And after Col saved his life in battle, he had a brooch forged out of the finest gold in Narnia. He presented it to Col as a token of his thanks and friendship. Later in his reign, the duke of Galma rescued him from a band of pirates, and he had a similar brooch made and given to the duke. After that, he issued an order that anyone who saved the life of a member of the Narnian royal family in the future should receive one."

Cari nodded, her curiosity piqued. "So I suppose they made more of them, then?"

The king raised an eyebrow, and one corner of his mouth made an odd twist upward that almost made Cari laugh, and did cause Lucy to giggle next to her. It took a moment for King Peter to speak again.

"Yes," he answered, "and one of them will belong to you."

_To me? Why – oh, honestly. I only saved Lucy's life after putting it in danger in the first place. Surely I don't count at the level of the others who saved the past monarchs without causing them harm first!_

But this thought had clearly not occurred to any of the kings and queens, for the next thing Cari heard King Peter telling her was that they would present her with the brooch at the feast that would be held upon the eve of her family's departure to Archenland, provided it had been finished by then. According to Susan, it had taken Narnia's best goldsmiths and jewelers a month to make each brooch.

"If you depart before they finish it, we would love to give it to you on your next visit," added Susan. "We have already invited your father to bring you all to the next midsummer feast."

"But let's hope you visit again before then, for Lucy's sake," King Edmund added, grinning as Lucy narrowed her eyes at him.

"But it's so much work for your smiths, and I – " Cari's words trailed off as she watched Lucy's annoyance turn to a smile of anticipation, and out of the corner of her eye glimpsed the unshed tears in Susan's.

"It is for Lucy's sake and ours resulting from it that we offer you this gift, Cari," she said, "and the smiths begrudge it no more than we do; it is a trifling thing at best when compared to her life."

Her voice dipped noticeably at the end of the sentence, and Cari's resolve to protest further died altogether. She nodded and forced the corners of her lips upward.

"Then it would be my honor," she said, just as a knock sounded outside the room next door, accompanied by the booming voice of King Lune.

_Bother it all,_ Cari sighed to herself after she had taken her lunch in her room. _I am even slower than usual today. I didn't even thank King Peter properly for saving my life! I wonder if Father and I shouldn't give him something at least as nice as the brooch they're giving me. Actually, we should give him something nicer, since he didn't break my ankle before saving me. We would probably offend him and King Edmund and Susan and Lucy if we didn't, or at least break some kind of diplomatic protocol. We certainly would be breaking it were this Calormen. I should ask Father about it at once._

King Lune, however, did not share his daughter's apprehensions. "That tradition has stood for many years, Carisa," he said in answer to her queries about the brooch, "and they would do no less regardless of what happened to Queen Lucy beforehand. Both their traditions and their personal generosity direct that they demand nothing in return. In fact, making a point of giving a gift of higher caliber would be more offensive than a simple, gracious acceptance of what they give you." His eyes softened, and he added, "Not but that all of them are far too generous to take offense at either, and I would warrant that none of them would assign you an ounce of blame for what happened."

_Which is exactly the problem,_ Cari wanted to say, although she was slightly reassured when her father went on to say that upon the first day of the Narnians' next visit to Archenland, they would hold a feast in the High King's honor. _Still – bother. Why didn't I just go back to the castle to begin with and leave the others to climb without me? And I still owe King Peter an enormous expression of gratitude, feast or no feast._

The next week Cari's ribs felt well enough to make the trip upstairs for tea with her family and their hosts. "You made it all that way without the chair?" Susan asked, clearly but pleasantly surprised.

"Chair? Was I supposed to put her in a chair and carry her up here, then?" inquired King Edmund, grinning as Cari flushed.

"No, more like all three of us," Lucy retorted with a wave of her hand. "Anyway, the last time you were in that chair, Peter was the one carrying you around, Edmund."

The king's puzzlement lasted only a few seconds before giving way to another wide grin. "Wait – the gimp-chair survived?" He turned and clapped a hand on the shoulder of his brother, who had just walked up behind Lucy. "You remember the gimp-chair, don't you, Peter?"

The older king shot him a mock glare. "Of course I do," he replied, "seeing as how you never missed an opportunity to make me help you around with it, not to mention all the times you demanded that I push you all over Cair Paravel while you sat on it."

King Edmund did not miss a beat. "What, all _two_ times?" he shot back. Seeing the elder king's pointed eyeroll, he quickly added, "Fine, maybe three. Or four. But in any case," he said quickly, seeing his brother's wide grin, "I do seem to recall that you ended up becoming the gimp yourself because of it."

"Along with you," King Peter pointed out, now laughing heartily. Cari thought the younger king might protest again, but instead he shrugged and began laughing right along with his brother. Cari restrained herself from shaking her head just in the nick of time, and contented herself with watching Susan roll her eyes.

Cari spent most of the meal half-listening to the two Narnian kings regale her brothers with stories of the gimp-chair, half preparing for what she had been unable to do thus far due to her lack of contact with either of the kings since the morning they and their sisters had come to visit her.

_I don't care how uncomfortable I feel. I don't care how long it takes to get the words out, or how much Corin and Cor laugh at me afterwards. King Peter deserved my thanks some time ago, and he will get it, along with an apology – well, technically two apologies, since I did help break Lucy's ankle._

No sooner had everyone risen from the table than Cor and Aravis began an animated discussion. Corin and King Lune began conversations of their own with two fauns, the two queens turned to consult King Edmund about something, and King Peter, seeing Cari holding the back of her chair, offered her his arm for support, and asked her if she wanted her support chair brought to her. Cari saw her chance and took a deep breath.

"No, thank you, King Peter," she said. "I can get back to my quarters well enough without it, and that is thanks to you – I mean, that and the fact that I am even here to need a support, or – or not need one, because you saved my life. If you and your siblings believe you owe me a debt for Lucy, I believe I owe a much greater debt to you." She paused a moment, trying to recollect the rest of the words upon which she had settled over tea. "And I am sorry because I should have told you so before, when I first awoke. Please believe that I am not at all ungrateful, and nor is my family, and nor will I ever forget the debt of gratitude I owe to you."

For a few moments, the High King looked nonplussed. Finally he shook his head as if to clear it. "I do not think you ungrateful at all, Princess Cari," he said, "and you need not worry about any debt. And in any case, you saved my sister's life."

That stopped Cari in the process of wondering why he was pausing in between his words. "I helped save her life," she corrected him, "and it was only endangered in the first place because of me."

The king raised one eyebrow. "Lucy did not say that you had caused her any sort of danger," he responded.

Cari bit the inside of her lip to keep from sighing aloud in frustration. "I believe that," she said, "but the fact remains that her ankle is – well, mostly my fault, anyhow. I mean, I am not contradicting her truthfulness," she added hastily. "I only mean that Lucy is so forgiving, and that she naturally sees so much of the best in things, that she might not consider it to be my fault. You see, when we were descending the cliff, I took too long to get down, and she became worried and climbed up after me, and I jumped downward and landed on her hand by accident, and that was why she fell and broke her ankle in the first place."

King Peter shook his head. "She told me as much about going back up after you," he said, "and I still do not see that any fault lies with you." He raised his hand, as if forcing himself to stop his train of thought. "And in any case, it is not about fault or blame. I am only glad, as are we all, to see you both alive and well, and it does not change my gratefulness to you – or my family's."

Cari almost did release her frustrated sigh then. "I understand, King Peter," she said, "but without Lucy breaking her ankle, we probably would have made it back before the rain got so severe, and then we wouldn't have been stuck on the cliffs on the first place and in need of rescuing, and causing you and everyone else so much worry and trouble, and – well, all of that being so, you really owe me no thanks for Lucy's life at all, and neither does anyone else."

That earned her two raised eyebrows, along what might have been a sigh of exasperation, disbelief, or both. In any case it was an expression of displeasure, for when the king found his voice again, that was its chief note.

"But they – we all are thankful to you," he replied. "Whether you wish to acknowledge it or not, I do believe you saved Lucy's life, along with your own siblings'. When you were first brought back after the flood, I told your father how grateful we all were to you. He told me that you would not consider us indebted to you, and you graciously proved that, which is why it is so difficult for me to see that you insist on faulting yourself so much deeper into our debt when we – when I meant only to express my gratitude to you."

Cari wanted nothing more than to melt into the cool stone floor then, or at least to stare straight at it and never look back up, but she forced herself to look the king full in the face as he spoke, although she could not help shrinking back a step or two. Only when he had finished did she drop her gaze and run her tongue over the inside of her lip, which she had now bitten nearly raw. Every name she had ever silently called herself streamed to the forefront of her mind, but halfway through the list, she forced her head back up to meet King Peter's gaze. He looked almost more startled than upset, but Cari's one thought was to erase both sentiments as quickly as possible, seeing as it would not do to run away. Unfortunately, the best she could do for several moments was to bite her lip and feel her face burning. Finally, another quarter of the way down the list of names, she forced herself to lift her eyes back to the king's and open her mouth.

"I am sorry to have displeased you, King Peter," she said. "I did not mean to; I only meant to make clear what happened – but I did not mean to say it ungratefully. I am very thankful to you for saving me, and to all of you for your hospitality. I never meant to imply otherwise."

The king's eyes softened completely as she spoke. "I do not think you ungrateful, Princess," he said, and would have said more had not Lucy come bounding over and announced the beginning of a grand Jump-Crystals tournament in the solar. Cari accepted at once, and quickly found herself being helped onto the softest couch in the room.

After seventeen total matches and a magnificent final showdown between Cor and King Edmund, the latter took the title of tournament champion. By that time dinner was being served, and King Peter was the first to offer Cari an arm off the couch.

"Thank you, King Peter," she said, trying her best to keep the apprehension out of her voice.

He smiled. "No trouble at all, Princess Cari, but I must admit I wanted to finish our earlier conversation. I angered too easily and startled you, and I was wrong to do so. I did not mean to upset you."

Cari shook her head. "Nor did I mean to upset you, King Peter, and I am sorry."

"As am I." For a moment, Cari thought he did not know what to say, but he recovered quickly. "Am I – are we then forgiven of each other?"

At first, Cari thought he was genuinely anxious over her answer, but she pushed the thought away. "Yes, of course – for my part, at least."

The smile returned then. "And mine." He turned to steer them around the corner toward the castle's secondary dining hall, where that night's evening meal was being served. "A truce, then, or should you like to defeat me at lawn-bowls a few times more for good measure?"

Cari's eyes stopped mid-widening as she caught the gleam in his, and before she could stop it, a laugh burst out of her, which produced a wide grin from the king.

"No, thank you," she finally answered. "This will suffice."

He nodded as they passed through the doorway into the dining hall. "Are you sure? My brother would love to see the alternative."

Cari smiled, thinking of Cor and Corin's argument over their last round of darts back at Anvard, and shook her head. "No, although I am sure he would appreciate your offer."

That elicited a hearty laugh, and Cari felt the king's arm shake underneath her hand. "That he would," he remarked, and bent to hand her down into her seat. "Poor Edmund."

"Oh, _now_ what did I do?" King Edmund's cheerfully ironic voice rang out from across the table, and his brother grinned at him.

"Nothing but the usual, Ed," he answered. "You know – tripping me up and spraining my ankle on the stag hunt, knocking Lucy into a vat of syrup – "

"That was an accident!" Lucy and King Edmund burst out at the same time, and King Lune laughed so hard he began slapping the dinner table.


End file.
